Star Wars: Duality
by GungaDin
Summary: 175 Years after the Battle of Yavin, one Jedi Knight meets an anomaly and partner in the Force by chance. New Chapter! Graden has to deal with the events and death of last chapter, but will she deal like the Jedi think she should?
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: I don't own Star Wars. I'll never pretend to own Star Wars. All the concepts and the universe itself was created by George Lucas. The characters were all of my own design ('cept Cade Skywalker, who was created by John Ostrander and Jan Duursema for the Star Wars: Legacy comic book by Dark Horse) and I take credit for the story and the characters, but not the universe. That's Lucas territory...

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Prologue:  
Control

"Energy. Compressed energy. Compressed energy forced into a single bolt of power, fired forth from a cannon and into the vast emptiness of space, illuminated to an even greater, more brilliant shade of green from the color of the identical bolts soaring through nothingness with it, all of them flying towards the same target. Within a matter of seconds, it violently impacts its target, blowing out pieces of metal and hull into oblivion as the enemy's ship fractures and shatters in another step towards inevitable nothingness. Relentlessly, the green impacts the target until more and more hull breaks apart. Still more energy, still more power flowing into the cannon and then out into space, until with a final salvo of green, the cannon on the other ship explodes into brilliant orange fire, releasing a final, futile tirade of red, which harmlessly deflects off our shields and into the inky blackness of infinity."

Darth Stendalus turned on his heel, smiling. "Think of it, Neutralic! Power. Such power. And it's all at the palm of my hand. In my fingertips." He held out his black gloved right hand and twirled his fingers into a fist one at a time before squeezing them all together, eliciting the sound of leather on leather. He chuckled slightly and untwirled them. "And I have control over that power," He returned to face the battle lighting up the dark blackness of space around his grandiose Star Destroyer, smiling victoriously. "And now, with one fell swoop I can use this power to topple the aging New Republic forever within a matter of days and instill a new Sith order, with power and control over people unlike anything anyone has seen since Emperor Palpatine's legendary reign more than a century and a half ago. So here we stand, on the verge of a new era, one without disorder and bureaucracy and chaotic, unresponsive governments, an era built on power and control, and an era in which we will rule together in power and control. And you, my dearest Neutralic, will be my right hand. The right hand of God, as it were." He turned again to face the rest of the bridge of his Star Destroyer and took a step towards the young girl in a black cloak standing behind him, pulling off the hood of his own black cloak, revealing a perfectly bald head, the hair dead and burned away from his years of training with the Dark Side.

Neutralic nodded her head reverently. "Of course, Master." She smiled weakly, the rest of her face obscured beneath her hood and stepped forward to watch the carnage of the battle playing out beneath her as one of the New Republic Cruisers ripped down the middle, drifting apart as its crew of both men and women spilled into the vacuum of space, like Ruby Bleiles on a slick countertop, flowing in random directions. Still the Super Star Destroyer's turbo lasers fired their green at all ships surrounding them. Some of the New Republic's crew fell into the instant obliteration of the line of fire, but their silent screams fell upon the deaf ears of the New Republic fighters barely staying in the fight, many dropping in rapid succession

"Is it not beautiful, my queen?" Stendalus smiled, clasping his arms behind his back and relishing the loss of life. They stood side by side together for a moment, watching the carnage of the battle, safe on their superior Star Destroyer.

Footsteps echoed across the bridge as Captain Neils Froden's heels clapped along the deck and towards the two Sith Lords. The Captain knelt at his masters' feet, waiting for acknowledgement.

Stendalus turned and looked down appreciatively at the Captain's respect. "Report."

"Everything is proceeding as planned, my Lord. Our three ships landed in proper position, making sure to control the airspace of a different partition of the planet like you planned. _The Starslayer _reports minor casualties, but our advanced deflector shielding seems to be working well against the Republic's pitiful weapons. _The Earthshatterer _says that the defenses on the planet's far side are far less than anticipated, but the size of the assembled fleet and those under hurried construction in dry dock did prove that the New Republic did plan to launch an assault from this planet. A few civilians are still on Dantooine's surface, but I told our fleet to focus on those sites less than the military targets. The battle in the sky is far more important than destroying the civilian bases on the planet's surface. They can't go anywhere; after all, we would rip them apart before they could even make it into hyperspace. This battle is all but finished."

"How many civilian ships have the Republic launched thus far?" Stendalus asked.

"As many as they could," Captain Froden smiled maliciously. "They hope to get all of the civilians off the planet surface." He chuckled slightly. "The irony is the ships have nowhere to go. They're filling up ships as fast as they can launch them but they don't stand a chance of making it out of even the upper atmosphere."

Stendalus laughed coldly. "Just as it should be, and with the destruction of the majority of the Republic fleet here on Dantooine, nothing will stand in our way. Dismissed."

Captain Froden saluted Darth Stendalus militarily and walked the length of the bridge, clapping his heels as he had when he had entered.

Darth Neutralic stood in silence next to the Sith Lord, her master, for several seconds before turning to him. "Excuse me, my Lord."

"Of course, my Queen," Darth Stendalus smiled as he nodded her off.

Darth Neutralic hurried down the bridge as quickly and inconspicuously as she could, passing by the Sith knights and padawans all positioned around the bridge stations. She turned left once off the bridge and headed towards the elevators at the end of the hall, towards Captain Froden, who rocked back and forth on his heels, whistling a merry tune.

"Captain Froden," She called out. "A word, if you don't mind."

"Of course, my Lord," Captain Froden turned around and knelt. "How may I be of service?"

"How many civilians were on Dantooine when we landed in the system?" Darth Neutralic asked, the passion rising in her heart.

"Three million, ma'am," Froden nodded. "Compare that to the roughly hundred thousand Republic soldiers in the air right now and that's a crippling blow to the soon-to-be-defenseless Republic, but fear not. This will all be over soon, and you can take your rightful place next to your master's throne."

Darth Neutralic lifted her hands to her face and pulled back her dark hood to her neck and released her blue head tentacles from their oppression, confined under the black cloak. "So you're telling me that of the three point one million people we're murdering right now, that almost all are civilians and innocent bystanders? Is that what you're telling me?"

"Why yes," Captain Forbes nodded, slightly surprised at her reaction to this news. "Is something wrong, ma'am? Last time I checked, Stendalus said he wanted as many civilian casualties as possible, claiming that it would not only demoralize the Republic and let them know that we mean business, but he also wanted to turn this entire system into a graveyard so that no soul would ever come here or try to learn the ways of the Jedi from the temple ruins on the planet's surface."

The blue Twi'lek's eyes burned white hot, the green glistening brighter than normal. She inhaled and exhaled deeply, clenching her teeth and feeling something snap within her.

"Something wrong, my Lord?"

Darth Neutralic whipped out her arm and, hand outstretched, pressed her fingers together, one at a time, willing the Force to enclose around Captain Froden's neck. She lifted him into the air as he choked, kicking madly and clawing his hands across the invisible Force binding his neck and keeping his body suspended in midair. She could feel him and his minimal midi-chlorians fighting the powerful Force in her body, willing her in futility to release his grip. He released a gasp for air, but the second he opened his throat and exhaled; she squeezed harder, crushing his windpipe, squeezing harder and harder until she could no longer watch him suffer. With a quick flick of her wrist and a will of the Force, she snapped his neck and let his suddenly limp body fall to the ground. Rage seethed in her, coursing through her veins, lighting her body on fire again and again. Passion and anger flooded her, invigorating her like nothing before. Stendalus would pay. He would pay for the senseless murder of so many innocent lives with his own.

She held out her right hand lifting Captain Forbes' lifeless body and levitating it in front of her so that his spine curled backwards grotesquely as she walked back onto the bridge, Captain Forbes' corpse still leading her.

Unsurprisingly, Darth Stendalus did not move but instead called to her from across the bridge, not turning from the battle beneath him. "And how did the young, promising Captain Forbes insult you, my love? I can feel your anger bleeding off of you, coming off in beautiful, harmonious waves of rage."

She levitated Forbes' body by the small of his back, watching his spinal cord bend even more unnaturally, hearing the individual vertebrae collapse and crack under the combined weight of the Force and the ships' artificial gravity. With another flick of her wrist, she flung the corpse across the bridge, sliding him to a stop at Stendalus's feet.

Stendalus turned around, staring at her. "What's the matter, my queen?"

"You're murdering three million people to topple a government and take power?" She seethed at him.

"If that's what it takes…" Stendalus's voice trailed off. "The ends will justify the means."

"Three. Million. People. Can you conceive that number?"

"Yes, I can. But can you?" Stendalus looked down at Captain Forbes' limp, lifeless corpse and kicked it, as though Forbes had somehow faked his broken spine and death.

"They are innocent," Neutralic pleaded.

"They are guilty," Stendalus turned to face her, eyes burning. "They serve a government built on lies and misrepresentation, built on chaos and disorder, a government with neither power nor control to effectively govern these people. They need reform."

"But there are people on the surface who don't support the government. One of the failings of democracy lies in the fundamental difference in opinion, support, and participation. What about those people who would support your rule?"

"Don't you mean our rule?"

"Right now? Never. Not in a million years. Not until you atone for this massacre."

Stendalus shook his head. "You just don't understand, do you?"

"I'm afraid I don't," Neutralic confessed. "But I can't let you continue with this."

"So be it." He sighed resolutely and turned to face the battle. "And I was looking forward so much to making you Queen. Kill her."

The Sith knight nearest to Neutralic flipped backwards from his chair and onto the bridge walkway. He pulled out his lightsaber and clicked it on. It hummed as he twirled its red blade around his body several times. He snarled, sneering and leering to force Neutralic into fighting him. With a few grunts and pants, he charged her.

Without so much as a second's hesitation, Neutralic pulled her lightsaber from her belt with The Force and clicked it to life, ducked to the side, and held out her hand as the Sith Knight's downward swing missed entirely, and his head separated his body. His body sank almost instantly, but his head flew until it hit the wall and fell with a sickening smack to the floor.

Neutralic lowered her lightsaber but kept it on. "You'll have to do better than that, my love."

Stendalus sighed but did not face her. "I hoped I would. Very well, if this is how you wish to play it, then this is how we will. Kill her, all of you, now."

Slowly, the thirty other Sith in their swivel chairs on the bridge rose and removed their cloaks, letting them fall lazily to the ground. One by one, they jumped onto the walkway between Stendalus and Neutralic, blocking the path by standing two or three in a line between Neutralic and Stendalus.

Neutralic scowled and approached them slowly. As one, they switched on their lightsabers illuminating the beautiful gray of the walkway with lights of red. With just feet to go, she sprinted in towards them, taking them on five or six at a time, ducking and spinning, slicing and clipping the Sith with her saber, and pushing the interferers out of her way with the Force in her other hand. Slowly but surely, they grew stronger, adapting to her style as her red blade clashed with theirs gracefully. She kicked one Sith into a computer console and elbowed another in the mouth as she locked sabers with a Klatoonian Sith.

"You can't win," Licked the Klatoonian in her face, barely an inch from hers and their entwined sabers.

"My dear child," She laughed maliciously. "You haven't even seen me start."

She pushed him off and her left hand dove into her robes as she began to duel with the last of the Sith in the group with the saber in her right hand. The kicked Sith jumped back into the fray, planning a sneak attack from behind, but Neutralic smiled as she blocked it with the newly placed saber in her left hand, holding off both opponents at once. Both stood amazed as she twirled their sabers out of their hands and gutted them both with her two arms outstretched in opposite directions.

"Next?" She smiled, loving the shocked look on each other Sith's face.

They charged her all at once, forgetting the small group strategy. She took them all on at once, blocking and parrying and slashing, whacking off body parts here and stabbing others through the stomach there. Within minutes, they had all fallen, her graceful, perfect style complimenting the best defense possible with a strong offense.

She turned around to face Stendalus and stood in silence for a moment, dripping in sweat, waiting in vain for him to turn around.

"And what, pray tell, do you plan to do now?" He asked, smirking, not looking away from his perfect battle scene.

"Set right all that I've done wrong in the world, starting by taking you down," She huffed, tired and exhausted from the fight she had just finished.

Stendalus finally turned around to face Neutralic. "My dear, you can never win. Do you not understand that? Even if you do manage to take me down, you can never stop the other two ships, and even if you do manage to do that, you'll never stop the rise of another Sith lord."

"But I will stop you," She panted. "And that's enough for now."

Stendalus shrugged off his cloak and pulled his large dual sided saber staff from his belt and clicked it on, twirling it and stepping backwards into a ready position. "I never thought I would have to fight you."

"And I always hoped I wouldn't have make you," Neutralic swallowed down her breath before resuming her panting.

"But I must defend my soon-to-be Empire, so let's get on with it."

They approached each other, neither one talking, staring down the other, in the futile hope that the other would come to their senses and stand down.

"I'm sorry," She whispered, suddenly filled with guilt and remorse.

"Don't be."

He charged her, demonstrating his fantastic ability with a staff through his well-implemented kicks and spins. She could barely keep up with him, even in her gracefulness. Once or twice she managed to get in a good punch across his face, feeling his jaw crack several times from the force of the blow. They locked sabers several times, and each time he always managed to push her off of him. Still, she persisted, parrying, and doing her best to keep the other side of his blade from catching her off guard. Still, she let the anger and rage of three million innocent lives lost flood her thoughts and feelings. The more she focused on her rage, the more powerful she grew, and the more she felt the Dark Side consume her and eat away at her repentant soul. She added an extra cross-slash in a slight gap in her former lover's defenses and cut his staff in two.

Stendalus stumbled back and looked at it in stunned silence for a second. "It's over," He whispered.

"Not yet," She looked back at him, feeling the tears already creep into her green eyes.

But they both knew what was coming. His staff had always matched him perfectly. Duals were always her specialty, and they had never bothered to teach the other the strengths and weaknesses of their respective styles, always hoping to complement the other in times of trouble.

He charged back into the fray, blocking her strikes, but less effectively, his weakness with two sabers painfully obvious in the absence of his staff. Within a matter of strikes after the division of his power, she sliced off his left hand, the squelching noise of fused skin and bone echoing across the bridge filled with fallen Sith. Stendalus screamed and held his clenched hand over his mutilated wrist, making it look like his saber protruded from his arm. Breathing in and out, he continued fighting her and she felt his power grow with his rage, much like hers, but unlike her, his skills with a single lightsaber could not match her power with doubles. Still she persisted, and within another few strokes, she managed to pull him into a saber lock, crossing her own sabers to block his, eliciting the sound of fizzling and crackling energy around the entire bridge. They held the lock for several seconds and looked into each other's eyes, feeling the pain and remorse of their respective decisions. Without warning she released the saber in her left hand and it flew around his body.

Stendalus broke the lock to defend himself with his remaining half of the saber staff, but Neutralic took advantage of the situation he had played into and cut off his remaining hand. Stendalus screamed again and held his two handless wrists together, collapsing to his knees.

Neutralic called her second saber back to her and hooked it back onto her belt, keeping the other pointed at his face. "Yield," She demanded, tears welling in her eyes as she watched her mutilated beloved look up to her blade from his kneeling position.

"Never," He panted, exhaustion and loss etched on his face. "But only because I am a Sith. Were I any other man I would surrender where I fall. So do it. Let me die with my honor. Murder me. Please, Neutralic. It is the one thing I beg of you."

Neutralic knelt down in front of his body, inhaled a cleansing breath, and conjured lightning in her hand, holding it there, growing it, until it began to singe her palm and fingers from its intensity. She looked into her dear lover's eyes and they spoke to each other with a million words and pictures and reminisces from the year gone by, and with a final thrust of her palm rammed it into Stendalus's solar plexus. Stendalus's eyes flashed blue for a radiant second before they closed, his body folding inward and collapsing in a heap on the floor of the bridge.

Neutralic pulled him into her arms, holding him for several minutes and rubbing his soft, shaven head. Explosions from his continuing battle persisted outside her ship, while she shed silent tears that dripped down the side of her face and onto Stendalus' shaved head. She would stay here, waiting for the New Republic to finish the ship off. She deserved nothing less, and he deserved nothing more than to have her stay here

A voice crept into her head: _You aren't at fault here. You have too much to live for to die here. Go, take an escape pod and turn yourself in. They'll probably take you in and train you just like Stendalus did._

She took a breath, weighing the argument. She closed her eyes and meditated for several minutes, the ship rocking beneath her. With another deep breath her eyes re-opened. She couldn't let the other Star Destroyers continue this fight, not after all her hard work. Regardless of Stendalus's life they would not stop the fight. Another person would step forward and take command of the fleet and continue to Coruscant. It would make all of her killing for nothing, and she couldn't let that happen.

With another breath, she stood up and walked towards the navigation station and sat down. She punched up the comm system to _The Earthshatterer _and _The Starslayer_. "Stendalus fell in the line of duty and I'm in charge of the fleet. There's been a change of plans," She stated monotonously, holding the tears back for a few seconds. "I want you all to target your firepower on these coordinates," She punched in some coordinates for a Republic military base on the planet's surface. She set a slow speed to the course, as she felt the ship rock slightly from the constant barrage to the ship's shields. She sat and watched as the two massive Star Destroyers maneuvered themselves into position, neither one noticeably damaged from their battle, meaning there was only one way to finish this battle once and for all. She used the ship's incredibly intuitive navigation system to accelerate her Star Destroyer to full speed and simultaneously plotted a course directly through the two sister ship's main power sources. True, she had to sacrifice the last remaining base on the planet's surface for her plan, but she needed to guarantee that the Star Destroyers would be distracted long enough to finish it. She glanced down at the controls. At least the Imperials managed to design their systems into something that anyone could use, be they pilot or no; she rarely trusted her flying skills.

She sprinted out of the bridge and to the group of elevators and pushed the button, opening the doors instantly, which were still waiting for Captain Forbes' never-answered call, and went to the next level down. She needed out. She needed to get off this ship and restart her training anew, without the dark influence of the Force.

Neutralic stepped out on the next floor and headed towards the nearest escape pod, looking out the window as the other two Star Destroyers raced closer and closer towards her own Star Destroyer.

She tore herself away from the window. She would stay on Dantooine for as long as it took. Long enough to regain control of her emotions and stop using the dark side. She would stay there until she had regained control, the control she had just lost when she had murdered a captain, thirty knights and her former master all within a matter of minutes.

A klaxon sounded throughout the ship. "Proximity warning: Please alter course and prepare for impact. Proximity warning: Please alter course and prepare for impact."

She sprinted to the first escape pod and pressed the "release all" button safety feature, which the builders had designed for fast evacuation should an enemy ever attempt to take over the ship, but now it gave her the benefit of no potential pursuers. No one would escape and her faction of the Sith would die on this Star Destroyer.

She dove into the nearest escape pod just as the hatch closed, emitting a slight hiss. For a split second, in which Neutralic thought something had gone wrong, nothing happened. Had she done something wrong? Would she really die on this ship?

She shot off into space and towards the atmosphere of Dantooine, breathing another sigh of relief while the other Star Destroyer's pods followed her path towards the surface. She pulled out the manual controls and did her best to steer herself in such a way that she could make an easy trip down into the unknown, not trusting her poor pilot skills.

She looked back as her Star Destroyer crashed slowly into the other two with a blazing flash of bright light and then disintegrated into floating, orbiting debris, leaving an untold number of souls floating out in the coldness of the space around Dantooine.

A defeated smile crossed her face as she turned back to look towards Dantooine, and guided herself into her self-imposed exile beneath the graveyard of orbiting carnage.


	2. Episode 1 Chapter 1

I don't own the idea of Star Wars... but the story and characters were my creation... yada yada yada

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**Episode I: Introductions**

Chapter 1  
Jedi Knight

The transport ship illuminated itself in orange glow as it fell rapidly into the upper atmosphere of Yavin IV, igniting the air particles it came into contact with. Taric Nopling watched as the ship, undoubtedly laden with the attendees for the day's ceremonies, descended into the misted landing pad in the jungle just a fifteen-minute walk from Taric's twelfth story Jedi Apartment. He had chosen the highest apartment he could because it reminded him of his childhood home on Kashyyyk, where he could never see the forest floor. True, most of the mist burned off by midday, but the mornings were usually cold and misty enough to make him feel right at home. He ran his fingers through his soft and smooth inky black hair and sighed. Finally. Today. Finally, it was here.

A knock came at the door. Taric shook himself from his thoughts and walked to the door, not even feeling the spring in his step. Nothing could bring him down today. Nothing.

He pushed the pad on the door and it slid open. There, in front of him stood Graden Invitil, his Ulcitian best friend, clad in her nice dress clothes. Of course, to Ulcitians, "nice dress clothes" meant most revealing.

She hugged him intensely. "Congratulations! I knew you could do it!"

"Well," Taric gasped for air. "It's not like you won't be able to make it either. But we've both known this day was coming for almost a month, so why the sudden outburst?"

"It's just a good day," She sighed and released him. "I don't think anything could go wrong on a day like this, and besides, it means we don't have to study or train or anything. Aside from the weather, I think it's going to turn out fantastic!"

Ulcitians. Always complaining about the weather. Why couldn't such a neat species live on the outer rim, where stars weren't so plentiful? Ulcitia was the furthest planet out in a binary star system in the deep core, so that Ulcitians always had a problem with the temperature. Days like these, where Taric could feel the chill from the outside's fog without even leaving his apartment, came often to the misty jungles of Yavin IV, and these were the days when Graden complained the most about the coldness of the morning.

Taric stepped aside, allowing Graden into his room. The Jedi Council had a very lenient policy about cross-sex apartments, following the institutional code of the new Jedi Council based on the old Academy of Luke Skywalker. According to the even more liberal policies of current Jedi Master and great great grandson of Luke, Cade Skywalker, last living descendant of the Skywalker line, the Council encouraged students to experience emotions to their full and to court others.

"Doesn't that seem like a path to temptation?" Taric had asked Master Skywalker one day while in the halls. "I mean, let's say that two people start courting, but say that one person completely falls for another, yet the other doesn't truly like their significant other that way. Isn't that setting the first up to a state of depression and hurt, which would make it easier for him or her to fall to the Dark Side?"

Master Skywalker smiled at him. "That is a good point, Taric, but you forget about Darth Stendalus."

"Darth Stendalus?" Taric asked him, cocking his head to one side in confusion. What did the most reviled Sith Lord of the era have to do with temptation?

"He was the Sith Lord who fell after the massacre at the Battle of Dantooine a decade ago," Master Skywalker explained. "He was an interesting case. The same sort of thing happened to him in his early days at the Academy back on Mon Calamari, but when he broke apart from his partner, he did not feel sad or remorseful, but instead relished in the thought of more people with whom to couple and then destroy emotionally. He grew mad with his powers of seduction and pulled in more and more females to serve him as their master. This, ultimately, led to his downfall as he actually grew into love with another and it weakened him in the Dark Side of the Force so that when his partner realized the evil he threatened to the dying Republic, she sacrificed her life to kill Stendalus and destroy his fleet."

"But isn't that incentive for us not to court our fellow padawans?"

Master Skywalker chuckled and shook his head. "No. No, Taric, you miss my point. I'm trying to tell you that courting is a wonderful thing, and that, if experienced in the right context can not only make you feel those emotions key to the use of the Light Side of the Force, but also gives you emotional strength to withstand the temptations of the Dark Side. We encourage you to make friends with all those around you, and because the Order's library is neither the place nor ideal setting for a meeting of potentially in love padawans we open up the apartments and residencies to you because we trust you."

Taric sat down on his bed and looked at Graden, who had taken her usual seat on the window, gazing down onto the dewy morning.

"I can't wait until I become a Jedi Knight," She mused wistfully.

"I'm sure it's not all it's cracked up to be," Taric shrugged, trying his best to take his best friend's mind off the day's events. "How much longer? Do you know?"

"About an hour," Graden sighed, twitching her pointy ears in foreboding anticipation to stepping into the cold morning air again. "Why can't we just do it in here? Or have a larger, completely indoor complex? Or at least move to Tatooine, where it's warm?"

"Because it's tradition. Because it's tradition. And everything happens on Tatooine, in case you didn't notice. Look at the rise and fall of the Galactic Empire one hundred and seventy five years ago," Taric quipped. "We don't really need to move simply because the weather isn't good, Graden. Few planets do have a decent enough climate to support the incredibly picky Ulcitian physiology. Be thankful Master Cade didn't decide to create the new Academy on Hoth. I'd never hear the end of it from you."

Graden shivered noticeably. "You say Hoth again and I'll fight you right here. You might be graduating today, but that doesn't mean I'm letting you off easy. I can take you."

"Uh-huh," Taric raised his eyebrow in doubt.

"You doubt?" Graden raised her voice and stood up, flicking her robe aside, revealing her lightsaber. "How can you doubt me? You're not a Jedi Knight yet."

"I'm close enough," Taric smiled dreamily and flopped back on the bed. "Just be glad for me, Grades. Pretty soon I'll be able to go on missions for the Order and not have to drag along Master Lectris. It'll be fantastic, and I can bring along high-level Padawans like you to help me complete them."

"Oh, what good would I do on a mission?" Graden raised her eyebrows and hand, looking over Taric's shoulder to the fruit bowl on his counter. She flicked her wrist and it flew towards her gently, as though escorted on a cloud of air while she walked towards Taric's couch and flopped down on it.

"Remember those stories about only using the Force when you absolutely needed it?" Taric reminisced from his History of the Force class from several years ago.

Graden chuckled. "Yeah, two centuries ago, when those people in their high and mighty thrones on the most powerful planet in the galaxy mandated that people should be incredibly careful and sparse in their use of the Force."

"Then the original Master Skywalker came along and told us to use the Force to help us," Taric finished the story as Graden began conducting the fruit out of the bowl with her other hand, playing with it as she would with a few balls in an intense juggling act.

He watched her mastery of the Force, slightly envious. He couldn't do that. She was a padawan and he was almost a knight and still he couldn't quite master the Force as most other Padawans could. He could do what she was doing with one or two fruits at the most, but that meant using both hands, one for each fruit. He couldn't be like Graden and play with five fruits at once with one hand and keep the glass bowl levitated with the other. Still, Graden was like Master Lectris: always incredibly adept and intuitive when using the Force, but only so-so with a lightsaber.

Taric's lightsaber skills, however, were unparalleled among any of the padawans and about half of the Jedi Knights. He had developed his own style of agility and power that he called his own and had even used it once just a matter of weeks ago against Master Lectris.

They rounded each other slowly, circling, one foot over the other. Taric wouldn't pull out his saber and attack first. That was dishonorable. He wouldn't do that. Some might call it weakness, but Taric called it his strength; attacking an unarmed person wasn't a fair tactic, and he had told Master Lectris this from the start.

"Sometimes you might have to instigate the attack," Master Lectris said, still circling and keeping his hands to his side, just in case. "You never know when someone will attack you!"

He sprinted forward, not drawing his lightsaber. Taric panicked. He placed his hand on his lightsaber, not wanting to trust his aim with the Force and unclip it from his belt. Master Lectris still sprinted towards him, quickly. Taric looked left and right. What would his Master do? Punch him? His feet shifted, ready for whatever Master Lectris was planning. Master Lectris drew back his hand as he approached, still accelerating and prepared to throw his entire weight into his punch.

A punch? Master Lectris had never prepared him for this! He threw up one hand for what he hoped was a block. Then, at nearly the last second, the fist opened and his lightsaber leapt into his hand and crackled to life emitting its fatal green glow, pointing directly at Taric's face. Taric ducked to the right and Master Lectris's saber sent a jet of heat in its wake. Taric whipped out his own and clicked it on, clashing it on Master Lectris's with an instant, ephemeral flash and taking him by surprise long enough to bring both saber's down to hip level. They made eye contact, Master Lectris smiling at Taric. They twirled their lightsabers around, releasing them. Master Lectris jumped back and held his saber at the ready position.

"Good," he smirked. "Someone like me can't afford to go head to head with such an adept with a saber. I have to use every power I have to my advantage in order to win, even if it might involve a sneak attack."

"You could have killed me," Taric huffed in disbelief. Was Master Lectris prepared to really have stuck his lightsaber through his face just like that?

Master Lectris chuckled. "No, no, Taric. I would never hurt you with my lightsaber, you have to understand that. I knew that you would react. Your years on Kashyyyk tracking and hunting with your father have given you fantastic reflexes. Are you ready?"

"Are you going to try and kill me again?" Taric asked slightly apprehensively.

Master Lectris laughed. "No, no Taric. I said I would never hurt you and I never will. Are you ready?"

Taric held out his lightsaber, ready, the blade's green rim giving off more light than its blue core. "When you are."

Master Lectris ran toward him again, faster than before. Taric blocked his strike deftly, and then prepared for his Master's signature return by switching his blocking high from right to left. Their lightsabers crackled together again, but this time, something caught Taric in the stomach and he flew backwards, hit the ground and somersaulted, landing on his feet, and slid back, his feet kicking up the dirt of the training room and his left hand sliding him to a stop as his right arm flew out, lightsaber pointing backwards towards the wall.

"What was that?" Taric asked, out of breath. "You didn't say we could use the Force."

"You're already fighting with the Force, Taric," Master Lectris told him. "You picking up the lightsaber and fighting me with your speed and agility is already using the Force. And besides, I told you that if I'm a Sith Knight I have no choice but to use Force powers if I want to win. I want to win, so I'm going to press my advantages to their full."

"But you know I can't match you in the use of my Force powers!"

"Exactly, Taric. It's called pressing my advantages."

They charged each other this time, Taric prepared for Master Lectris's use of the Force. They returned the same exchange as before, but Taric used his left hand to block any opportunity for Master Lectris to move him.

"Good, Taric! Good!" Master Lectris shouted over their rapid exchange of blows.

Within a minute, the skirmish had turned in favor of Taric, who, no longer hampered by being on the defensive, began to move his lightsaber as fast as he could, forcing his shoulders and entire upper body into each attack. Master Lectris returned each of Taric's rapid hits strike for strike, but grew slower with each attack, his strength waning from the power of Taric's assaults. Without warning, Master Lectris threw his lightsaber down to the floor and held his hands up just in front of his chest. Taric stopped his attack just next to Master Lectris's left cheek.

Master Lectris smirked again, and pulled his hands inward towards him and flipped backwards, kicking Taric over himself and back towards the far wall.

Taric spiraled into the air, trying to keep his spinning vision on Master Lectris who picked up his lightsaber again and followed Taric's path, sprinting to where Taric would land and stood, saber out, ready to strike Taric. Taric, in frenzy, threw out his left hand and attempted to push Master Lectris back towards the wall.

Because of his constantly spinning motion, however, Master Lectris lost his balance and slid forward slightly, giving Taric just enough time for him to land on the ground. Still dizzy from the spinning, he looked up for the green glow of Master Lectris's saber.

He caught it after a second, but watched as it grew closer, leaving streaks of green behind it as Master Lectris twirled it single-handedly in a blocking motion in front of him. He closed his eyes and cleared his mind, tapping into the Force, trying to sense Master Lectris's position amid the swirling green.

He snapped his eyes open and twirled around, high blocking Master Lectris's pre-emptive strike against him. Their lightsabers cracked together, hissing.

Master Lectris smiled and pulled away, clicking his lightsaber and shutting it off. "Good. I didn't think you'd catch that move."

"It was a good trick," Taric nodded, as he clicked his own lightsaber off and clipped it on his belt. "I've never seen anything like that." He wiped his sopping brow of sweat.

"Thanks," Master Lectris nodded, humbly. "But there is a reason I asked you to come in here today for this training session."

"What? Why?"

"Because this is the last training session we will have as Master and student. I've been promoted to the Jedi Council to serve as a full time Jedi Master in addition to my duties as personal counselor to Master Skywalker."

"That's wonderful!" Taric smiled, jubilantly. "Congratulations!" Taric's face dropped as he realized the implications of Master Lectris's actions. "But then who will train me?"

"That's the other thing I wanted to talk to you about," Master Lectris smiled, unable to contain his pride. "I've asked the Council to allow you to take the final tests before becoming a Jedi Knight."

Taric's jaw dropped. "You're kidding."

"Never," Master Lectris smiled, beaming with pride. "I think you're ready, especially after today."

"Thank you, Master!" Taric smiled and laughed. "It's an honor."

"No, Taric," Master Lectris nodded to him. "The honor is mine."


	3. Episode 1 Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own Star Wars... I own the story and the characters and the saber colors and the Ulcitians... but not Star Wars

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**Chapter 2  
Connection **

Taric brought himself back to the present just as Graden flung a fruit at him with her left hand. Taric held up his hand to block his face reflexively, stopping the fruit. He had honed his powers since that day, hoping to one day become as good as Graden or Master Lectris with the Force, but his powers seemed to work best when he worked instinctively, when he didn't think about using the Force, as though he would need to improvise his way to success.

"Where were you?" Graden asked him as he lost his focus and the fruit dropped towards the ground.

"Here," Taric half-lied as he dove to catch the fruit with his hands.

"Don't give me that," Graden said to him skeptically. "I can tell when you're thinking about things in the past."

"Alright," Taric pulled the fruit up from the ground, wiping it on his robes. "I was thinking about my last fight with Master Lectris."

"When did you two ever fight?" Graden asked, with only a pinch of sarcasm in her voice. "You two seemed to get along like Ewoks when you trained."

"I meant duel," Taric said slightly annoyed as he took a bite of the juicy apar his parents had sent him from Kashyyyk. Every couple of months they sent him a care package full of food from his home planet. Luckily, he had left his apars for last. They had sent him this most recent package when he had told them about his passing of the tests to become a Jedi Knight. "Remember that last duel between me and him?"

"Who doesn't?" Graden laughed and looked to her left, remembering. "Everyone was there because of the popularity your duels have. I was thinking about charging people for seats in the upper deck."

"Except even Master Skywalker has lines to not cross," Taric often heard about Graden's plans to take advantage of some situations to help make money. He never quite understood why, though. Graden came from one the richest aristocratic family on Ulcitia and her parents sent her money every so often, but certainly less frequently than perhaps Graden would have liked. Master Skywalker did request that families only send packages once a month at the most, so as not to butter the children, but Graden's family, for some strange reason didn't. Taric really didn't understand why. Her parents were king and queen of Ulcitia and they could certainly afford to give Graden more money than they were giving her.

"Yeah, but that was exciting," Graden continued. "I loved that duel. It was one of your best, in my opinion. Even the other observers agreed with me."

"Oh. It wasn't that good," Taric blushed.

"When are we going to duel?" Graden asked him, without warning.

"When you think you can beat me and not have to trick yourself into thinking you can," Taric said indifferently taking another bite of his apar.

"Oh come on," Graden pleaded, placing the fruit back in the bowl and setting it on the couch. "We both know that while you might be good with a saber you can't match my use of the Force."

"I meant take me on with a saber," Taric turned the apar around, looking for another place to bite off the skin.

"That's not fair," Graden glared at him. "Even Master Lectris himself encourages us to duel each other. It'd make for an interesting match up! People would watch it and we'd have fun. You're just afraid that I might beat you."

"I am not." Taric said lightly. "I just don't think it's fair for you to use Force powers and rely on them more than you rely on your saber."

"Oh please," Graden rolled her eyes. "Our powers, like our lightsabers, complement each other. We'd be an even match."

"We would not. I'd beat you in ten seconds."

"So prove it," Graden jumped up, whipping aside her robes and unclipping her own lightsaber and clicking it to life, the blue outer rim complemented by bright green interior.

"No," Taric took another bite of his apar.

Graden clenched her teeth competitively. She huffed, and finally clicked her lightsaber off and re-clipped it on her belt. "Yeah, well the offer still stands." She flopped on the bed and set the bowl of fruit on the ground.

Taric's eyes flew to Graden's lightsaber but grew distracted as she levitated the fruit out of the bowl, around her face as though framing it, scrutinizing each apar to decide which apar she wanted to eat. She held her hands out without moving them, conducting them without added motions and then, showing off, she took her hands and placed them under her chin as she watched the still circling apars. Taric scowled. Show off.

His eyes back drifted to her saber. He liked her lightsaber, partly because he felt somewhat attached to hers. In a way, her lightsaber was half his, just like his was half hers.

"Today you will be finishing construction on your own personal lightsabers," Graden's Master Sangreldor growled in Basic with his Wookie accent. Many often wondered how a Wookie could speak Basic. Rumor around the Academy was Master Sangreldor had a dangerous surgery after he almost lost his life during the attempted rise of Darth Stendalus. The hair around his neck had grayed from the scar tissue and it continued in a stripe down his chest where (students theorized) they had cut him open. "As we all know, the final step is to place the focusing crystal, which gives your lightsaber its distinct color. I will be distributing your crystals in a minute. You will each have a choice of orange, yellow, green, or blue. In the olden days, green was reserved for Jedi Masters. Master Skywalker, however, has become incredibly interested in the purple lightsaber since his foray as a Bounty Hunter and has decided purple as the new color of Jedi Masters, so please choose a color from the box I will be walking around with, and follow the directions on your screens."

Taric had just brought up the screen discussing the installation of the focusing crystal when Graden leaned over from the desk next to him.

"I have an idea," Graden told him, keeping an eye on her master. "Since we're such good friends why don't we combine crystals?"

Taric whipped his head around to look at her. "What are you talking about?"

"I was reading about it last night," She whispered conspiratorially. "The whole point of the focusing crystal is to focus the saber's energy source and produce the blade. The shape and type of crystal determines its color, but I was thinking that if we cut the center out of our refined crystals and turn them into discs we might just be able to get the properties of both focusing crystals, including color." She bit her lip in apprehension.

"And how do you know if this will work?"

"I don't, but there's only one way to find out," She smiled.

"You're crazy," Taric laughed. "There's no way this'll work, and besides, how do you plan to cut the center out of our crystals?"

"With this," Graden showed him the small laser cutter her parents had given her two days previously. "It'll work. We just place the crystals on top of each other and cut an identical circle through both of them, pop out the centers, replace them in the other's and then install the crystal. It'll work. It has to."

"I don't know Graden," Taric looked to Master Sangreldor. "What if it doesn't work?"

"Then our lightsabers fizzle and die and we have to start over," Graden smiled weakly and shrugged. "We don't have to worry about them blowing up,though, because they've been individually inspected by the entire council already, and the crystal doesn't change anything about the saber except to make the color. It'll work. It has to."

"I don't know, Graden," Taric bit his lip.

"Think about it, Taric," Graden whispered even faster, attempting to coerce him. "How cool will it be when you turn on your lightsaber and it's two different colors?"

Taric thought back to the amount of work he had to do to finish his lightsaber so far. It took six weeks of work, two hours a day. With the completion of his saber he could become a high level padawan, so he didn't want to have to go back and start over. But the prospect of a saber no one had ever attempted was an opportunity too good to pass by.

"Fine," Taric said with a touch of final resolve. "But let's do it fast before I regain my senses and change my mind."

"Awesome! Grab a green crystal and I'll grab a blue."

"How long have you been planning this?" Taric whispered as Master Sangreldor approached them, having distributed crystals to all the other students.

"Since I began constructing this thing," Graden smiled as she stroked her saber.

"Good morning, Graden," Master Sangreldor greeted her as he approached, holding out the box. "I scheduled a duel after lunch so you can try out your finished saber."

"Morning, Master," She stated as though she hadn't just been planning to break a huge lightsaber construction rule. "That sounds great, but you better be ready to lose."

Master Sangreldor just laughed and held out the box, neatly divided into four sections: green, blue, yellow, and orange. Graden chose a crystal from the blue section.

"Really, Graden? Blue is a color of learning. I had you pegged as one for green," Master Sangreldor said as he put the box in front of Taric.

"I like blue," Graden smiled back as Taric pulled a green crystal from the box.

"That, I'm not surprised at," Master Sangreldor nodded to Taric. "Green is a symbol of power and control, something that I'm surprised you wish to show off."

He left for the back room to lock up the crystals. Quickly, yet apprehensively, Taric handed his crystal to Graden. She clicked on her cutter and placed the crystals on top of each other and began drawing her perfect circle within the two crystals. Taric kept his eyes on Master Sangreldor as he shut the door, locked it with a keycard, and addressed the class. "When you've finished please approach the front so that I might check to see that your saber works and that you've installed it properly."

Graden finished her circle and lifted both crystals, handing Taric his green one back.

"You sure it cut through?" He asked her, looking at his crystal.

"Look at that curve," She bragged and pointed to the thin black line in the center of his crystal after she had pushed her blue crystal's disc onto the table.

"Fine," Taric acknowledged, realizing that it was finally done. He pressed gingerly on the center circle and with a quick punch of the thumb, the crystal clattered on the table next to Graden's blue one.

Graden snatched up his disc and cautiously pushed it into her own crystal, making it flush with the sides. Taric picked up the blue disc in front of her and put it in the center of his green crystal, following her lead. They opened their lightsabers' respective casings and worked their crystals into the focusing position as it listed on their computer screens, not paying attention to all the other students who had worked faster than them and were already in line, presenting their sabers to Master Sangreldor.

Graden snapped her case shut just a second before Taric and stood up. "Ready?"

"I guess," Taric stared at his saber for a minute, feeling both conflicting sides of the argument raging within him. He stood up and went with Graden into the line with the other students. They stood in silence, each one anticipating the moment of ignition.

"Are you ready, you two?" Master Sangreldor asked them as the last student left the classroom with his friends.

"Yeah," Taric said.

"Master," Graden held her lightsaber with both hands. "We both finished our saber at the same time. Literally. So can we both try ours at the same time."

"Of course," Master Sangreldor nodded.

Naturally, the Council was not happy with their "stunt," and, had it not been for the fact that their lightsabers worked perfectly and beautifully, would have suspended them from the Academy. However, because it showed ingenuity and connected the two into a strong friendship the Council forewent punishment, allowed Graden and Taric to continue as high-level padawans, and thereby made the two lightsabers the envy of the Academy.

"I thought we would get expelled for our crystals," Taric confessed to Graden.

"I didn't. I knew that they'd see it as ingenuity on my part. I just let you have credit so that you wouldn't get expelled."

Taric sighed and looked at her. Their friendship was strong because of the crystal incident. Truth be told, he did want to duel her, but he was afraid he would beat her too badly if she faced him. One day, maybe. One day they would duel, but only when she presented him a challenge with her saber.

"So when are you going to tell your parents to send me some fruit in some care packages? Or at least sell me some? I love this stuff," Graden said as she finished eating her apar with a huge final bite and spitting the seeds out perfectly into the disposal unit next to her couch, although, knowing Graden, she probably used the Force to give them that extra push they'd need to make it all the way.

"I like my fruit," Taric said. "And I let you have some when you come in, but my parents, I don't think, would like to give out precious apars to people they don't know."

"Well they'll meet me today, won't they?" Graden smiled. "They're coming to the ceremony, aren't they?"

"Well, yes," Taric nodded, not having thought about it, he had been too busy with the exams to think about who was coming and who needed to meet Graden.

"I think you're running out of excuses," Graden nodded sarcastically. "But knowing you, there'll always be one more. You and your precious apars… Why don't you just get a room?"

"We have a room," Taric looked around his apartment. "You do know that it's just me and these apars in this room, right?"

"You need a girlfriend," Graden shook her head.

Taric looked at her.

"And I don't mean me," she laughed in a moment of conceit. "I mean someone who goes here or someone from Kashyyyk or… someone. Just someone."

"Maybe later," Taric blushed. He had had his eyes on Siil, a Togrutan Jedi Knight and one of the few Knights who could potentially best Taric one on one in a saber duel.

"You do have someone," Graden smiled maliciously as she read the look on his face.

"I do not," Taric said, putting on his straight face in the hope that it wouldn't give away his true feelings for Siil.

"It's someone here, isn't it?" Graden continued far too intuitively.

"No," Taric responded far too quickly and defensively.

"It's not Reeda, is it?" Graden asked, citing their fellow padawan and Rodian.

"No!" Taric insisted, even more defensively. "It's no one!"

"Right," Graden nodded, disbelievingly. "Anyways," She looked at the clock on the wall. "It's about time to go. So let's go… lover boy."

"I don't want to court anyone!" Taric continued, unaware the conversation was over.

"Right. Sure you don't. Now let's go."

Taric scowled as Graden headed towards the door and put her hand on the pad on the wall next to it, sliding it open. Taric went towards the door but stopped and held out his hand for her to go first.

"Taric, the honorable," she sighed, not heading out the door. She shook her head in almost disgust. "That's how they'll remember you."

She headed out the door and into the hallway; he followed her out of the room and down the corridor towards the main hall for the graduation ceremony, ready for their perfect day, even though it was misty, the day was completely and totally perfect.


	4. Episode I Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Yeah. Don't own Star Wars. Own the story idea, colors, and the characters... and the Ulcitians (Wait until Episode III for information on the Ulcitians)

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**Chapter 3  
Ceremony**

They crossed the misty grounds in silence, Graden pulling her light and sparse dress clothes over her as tight as she could to conserve heat. Taric shook his head. Even in this mild, brisk morning that would feel like Hoth in winter to her she still dressed like a Princess in the tropics. Not that any of the other male Jedi Knights and padawans complained, but she dressed in such sparse garments every single day. A few of the Jedi did approach her in the early days, but she turned them down every time by laughing in their face. No one ever attempted to court her anymore, although privately she had confessed to Taric that she did have her eyes set on several of the Jedi Knights. Who they were, however, she never said.

They entered the main Academy building, an Old Massassi temple supposedly used as the base for the Rebel Alliance during the legendary Battle of Yavin one hundred and seventy five years before. Master Nandon Lectris stood at the entrance, greeting the ceremony's attendees as they entered the ancient temple, clutching themselves closely in their robes for warmth against the biting morning air, and pulling their hoods over their heads tightly. Master Lectris stood talking to two people, who nodded and seemed to be unaffected by the morning's light breeze.

"And here comes the man of the hour," Master Lectris smiled as Taric approached with Graden, who, unable to show her resolve any longer, had started to shiver.

The two people at the door turned around.

"Mom! Dad!" Taric exclaimed in surprise as he ran to hug them.

"Good morning, son," His father, Scantem Nopling, beamed at him, pulling his son into a signature Wookie hug, patting him roughly on the back. "Congratulations."

"Thanks, dad," Taric smiled. "It's good of you to come; surprised me, actually."

"You didn't really think that we'd miss our son's big day, did you?" Taric's mother, Pocmet, smiled at him and pulled him into a more gentle and affectionate motherly hug. "We're so proud of you."

"Mother, not in front of…" Taric blushed slightly and nodded his head back to Graden.

"And you must be Graden," Taric's mother said affectionately.

"Y-y-yes," Graden chattered rapidly. "And it's l-lovely to m-m-m-meet y-you, Mrs. Nopling, but c-c-can we pl-l-l-lease get out of this f-f-frigid morning?"

"Why of course, dear," Taric's mother pulled off her cloak and draped it around Graden's shoulders. "Taric's told us you're from Ulcitia, so you must be freezing."

"Th-tha-thanks," Graden shivered, pulling the heavy cloak over her slender frame. "Now can we come inside?"

"Yes, yes," Master Lectris chuckled at the exchange and held out his arm in invitation. "Let's in all."

Graden didn't need telling twice. She moved as fast as she could into the Temple's natural warmth. Taric waited for her parents to cross into the Temple before entering.

"I was just telling your parents about your interesting lightsaber color," Master Lectris said as he entered the Temple and shut the door. "Caused quite a fiasco, did it not?"

"You have no idea, Taric laughed, slightly embarrassed. He hadn't told his parents about the lightsaber construction incident, and the Council didn't see it fitting to tell his parents because nothing had really come of it. "But it was all Graden's idea, I swear."

"Huh," Master Lectris scratched his chin. "And all this time I thought you two had come up with it jointly."

"No, it was my idea," Graden said as she rubbed her hands together quickly and then held then up to her hands and blew into them, trying to warm them. "Turned out nicely in the end, though, didn't it?"

"Yes, yes it did. Quite ingenious, really" Master Lectris nodded.

"You should have told me you were coming," Taric turned the focus of the conversation back to his parents. "I would have given you the tour this morning."

"We thought we would surprise you. You can give us the tour afterwards," Taric's father beamed down at Taric. "I for one plan on looking forward to seeing your apartment."

"I couldn't believe they gave you one," Taric's mother admitted. "I was under the impression that padawans stayed in a separate building and rooms from the rest of the Academy. How did you manage to get your own apartment?"

"That one, I'm sure, was Graden's idea, too." Master Lectris nodded to Graden again as she rubbed her arms for more warmth.

"Darn right," Graden nodded, but still focused on warming herself up.

"What did you do to make the Council give you your own apartment?" Taric's father asked. "It must have been good."

"Graden and I challenged Master Skywalker to a duel," Taric laughed, remembering how foolish it had sounded when Graden had approached him.

"I'm sick of the dormitories," Graden stormed into Taric's room.

Taric set down his copy of _Voyage of the Ventaculus_ and looked up to her from his lazy chair, not wanting to get up. "Why? What did they do this time?"

"There aren't enough boys who come to my building. I'm sick of it," Graden half-pouted. "Put simply, I don't think there's enough girls at the Academy to make a special trip to the dorms to check it out, much less to check it out on a regular basis."

"Graden, for the millionth time, they call them living quarters," Taric rolled his eyes as Graden flopped on his bed and stared at the ceiling. "And for another why don't you just do something about it?"

"And you know, that's exactly what I came here for," Graden put her hands beneath her head still staring off casually. "But I need you to do it."

Taric raised his eyebrows. "How do you need me? What could I possibly offer you?"

"We make a bet with Master Skywalker," Graden turned on her side to face Taric.

Taric stared at her for several seconds in disbelief. "You're kidding."

"No. No, Taric, I'm afraid that I'm very much not kidding," She looked up and nodded, contemplating to make sure she was of sound mind and body.

Taric placed his elbow on the back of his chair and squeezed the bridge of his nose together. "Alright, I'll bite, but only because you haven't been wrong yet. Yet." He added as she smirked at him. "What do you have planned?"

"Well, you know how Master Skywalker has an open door policy for dueling him?"

Taric nodded. Master Skywalker constantly reminded students that he would train with any of them at any time so long as they made an appointment a few days in advance.

"Well we challenge him to a duel, the two of us, and then we make a bet with him: if we win he lets us have our own apartments."

"And if we lose?"

"Then we journey into the mystical unknown," Graden shrugged. "But with your saber skills and my force powers, we could, at the very least, hold our own for a few minutes. And besides, I don't think anyone's ever taken him up on his challenge."

"But just because no one's ever done it doesn't mean that we should," Taric protested. "And besides the fact that we'd be the first, we'd probably lose."

Graden flapped her lips together. "Pssh. That doesn't matter. We'd have fun doing it, and on the slight off chance that we win we get our own apartments."

"Assuming he'll say yes…"

"Which he will. He'll undoubtedly set up a counter offer, involving some dreadful punishment if we lose."

Master Skywalker nodded to the two of them. "Alright, and if you lose, then you'll stay in the living quarters as long as you're here, excepting if you become Masters."

Taric looked over to Graden. He hadn't expected Master Skywalker to threaten with that. What would Graden do? No way would she accept sleeping in the-

"I'll accept that," Graden nodded and looked to Taric as though they had both expected as much. "That sounds fair."

Taric double took back to Graden. Now she was willing to risk staying in the quarters indefinitely just for a shot at an apartment?

"And you, Taric?" Master Skywalker looked at Taric. "My deal stands before you now. If you don't take it, it's lost the second you step out of the door."

Taric looked to Graden and then to Master Skywalker and then back to Graden. "Alright," He caved in. "I'll do it. When?"

"One week from today. Training room one. Midday. Don't be late." Master Skywalker left his office to enter his meditation chamber.

Word spread around the Academy fast that two young padawans had challenged Master Skywalker, but Taric didn't even have time to notice, as he had devoted every waking moment into spending training with Graden as both of them had no desire to sleep in the dormitories until they were Masters.

When their week had finally ended, Taric found himself staring down Master Skywalker in the face, Graden by his side. He looked up and to his right to the mass in the skybox overlooking the training room, Masters Lectris and Sangreldor at the front.

"This is your last chance to back out," Master Skywalker told them. "You can still walk away and not lose anything."

"No way," Graden smirked, looking to him. "I want my apartment."

"Very well," Master Skywalker nodded and pushed back his robes, his lightsaber flying into his hands. He clicked it on and its purple blade hummed to light while he held the hilt to his face and kept it there in ready position.

"Like we practiced?" Taric asked, withdrawing his own lightsaber and beginning to sweat. This was a stupid idea. How had he possibly agreed to this?

"Just like we practiced," Graden smiled, licking her lips. She pulled out her lightsaber and clicked it on, waiting for Taric to do the same.

Taric flicked his own switch, and no sooner had he done so than Master Skywalker sprinted forward and brought down his blade for an initial strike. Taric blocked it deftly, preparing to just parry all of Master Skywalker's attacks until Graden could effectively make her move.

But Master Skywalker did not focus entirely on Taric; instead he twirled and attacked Graden, taking her off-guard. She blocked like Taric as he ran up to distract Master Skywalker, who, sensing his approach kicked backwards, sending Taric skidding backwards.

Undeterred but for a slight pain in his ribcage, Taric sprinted back into the fray, jumping over Master Skywalker and landing behind Graden, who was doing her best to block Master Skywalker's quick attacks. In an instant of a lull in the fight, she flipped backwards over Taric's head so that Taric could resume his fight with Master Skywalker. Taric tried to move over to the right quickly, hoping to make it look like an effective dodge, just enough for Graden to get a good aim at Master Skywalker. Taric felt a quick brush behind his robes and struck his lightsaber on Master Skywalker's, locking with it. He chanced a glance over at Graden, who had, according their plan anyways, pulled Master Skywalker's lightsaber the instant it locked with Taric's. Miraculously, it flew out of his hands and clicked off. Victory! They were really going to beat him!

Then, in the heat of the moment, when Taric had forgotten to bring the saber down to Master Skywalker's shoulder, Master Skywalker ducked beneath Taric's saber and rolled towards Graden. He used the arm nearest Graden to pull her saber towards him while his still flew towards her, and then used his other hand to pull Taric's towards him. He held both sabers out at arms length, breathing heavily and positioning them so that they pointed directly into the face of both Taric and Graden for a moment before clicking them both off and tossing them back to their respective owners in victory. Graden tossed Master Skywalker's to him, scowling. So much for that idea. Master Skywalker had just doomed them both to dormitory life for another five years.

"Pack your stuff," Master Skywalker ordered as they met together and headed towards the door. "You're moving to the apartments."

Taric and Graden stopped and turned together as one.

"What? Why?" Taric asked, completely taken aback.

"Because you two tried incredibly hard," Master Skywalker smiled. "And that strategy, while not the most original of strategies did what it was intended to do. Had I been a Sith or any other Jedi I probably would not have caught your plan in time enough to think of a way to counteract it. And besides," He clipped his saber to his belt and headed towards the instructor's exit. "No one's ever challenged me before."

"So even though you lost, you really did make it into the apartments?" Taric's mother asked, not even attempting to hide the impressed tone in her voice.

"Yes, they did," Master Lectris nodded as they resumed walking towards the ceremony hall. "It was quite a sight to see, let me tell you."

They entered the crowded ceremony hall, which was already packed with visitors from other planets.

"We sent out notices and put bulletins in the main news sources throughout the galaxy. Part of keeping ourselves open to the people is to let them see in on certain key moments in the Jedi cycle," Master Lectris explained. "People from across the galaxy come to these events."

He looked around suddenly. Taric had felt it too. He looked to Graden, who seemed to perk up suddenly. "Do you feel that?" Master Lectris asked them.

"Feel what?" Taric's mother looked around to the three Jedi. "What do you feel?"

"It feels like Sith," Taric nodded. "Or at least, what I assumed the Sith would feel like if I ever were in their presence."

"Should we cancel the ceremony?" Graden asked.

"No," Master Lectris shook his head. "We should proceed. No Sith are going to stop us from our ceremony. They'd be crazy to try anything here and now, with a hundred Jedi present. The most we can do is make sure that we notify Master Skywalker. Why don't you all take your seats so that the ceremony can begin?"

They all parted. Taric's parents looked for two seats in the crowd and Graden headed towards her seat in the Padawans' area in the first five rows. Taric took his seat in the center front seat, closest to the middle aisle. The chatter died down as Master Skywalker stood up from his seat on the erected platform.

"We are gathered here today to congratulate and celebrate the graduation of these three Jedi Knights: Taric Nopling, Aradom Bastow, and Zemdol Vonsteed. Will you three rise and come stand here by me, please?"

The three almost-Jedi-Knights stood proudly and walked up the staircase on the stage and walked to the front, standing next to the pulpit.

Master Skywalker looked to them all. "Do you three agree to follow in the ways of the Jedi, never faltering in your constant quest for knowledge and understanding? Do you three agree to follow in the ways of peace and teaching? Do you three agree to follow in the Path of the Light, and to not fall into the Path of Darkness? If so, please say, I do."

"I do," The three knights chorused together.

"Then on this day, I proclaim you Knights in the Jedi Order of the New Confederacy."

"And we proclaim you all dead," Came a snarling voice from the back row of the chamber. Four men in black robes stood up on their chairs and disrobed, revealing a full belt of thermal detonators strapped to their stomachs and eyes devoid of emotion.

"All hail the great Darth Kolishnaru, who will one day restore order to the Galaxy."

People panicked, running and scurrying towards the stage. Taric jumped down and tried to make his way through the crowd. He jumped up as high as he could, but landed too short, in the middle of the frantic crowd.

He looked up in horror as the four Sith, as one, pulled up the long triggers for their thermal detonators and pressed down on their respective buttons together.


	5. Episode I Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Yeah. This Force power was my idea. These characters were my idea. Ulcitians were my idea. Certain saber colors were my idea. Star Wars... Not my idea.

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**Chapter 4  
Stranger**

Sixteen thermal detonators detonated at once, creating deafening explosions and echoes around the enourmous hall. Taric threw up his hands to shield his eyes from the blinding explosion. He failed. His first ten seconds as a Jedi Knight and he had already fallen and died in a sneak attack suicide bombing attempt by the Sith in an insane attempt to-

Why wasn't he dead?

He opened his eyes and looked to the location of the four Sith, keeping his arm in front of his lower face just in case. Encased in a large, tinted-blue bubble, a gigantic fire extinguished itself in the position where the Sith had blown themselves up. He lowered his hands and looked around. The other Jedi around him hadn't done anything; they, like him, had shielded themselves from the blast, hoping the flames wouldn't engulf them and too far away to do anything effective about it. Taric looked to the left of the fading bubble. A figure in a hooded gray cloak dropped his arms. In the deafening silence of the aftermath of the attack Taric thought he heard the person breathing heavily, as though exhausted. The person dropped into the nearest chair and fell limply towards the ground.

Who was this person?

Master Lectris walked up and placed a hand on Taric's shoulder. "What happened Taric? I thought we'd be dead for sure."

"You're not the only one," Taric released a loud chuckle of disbelief. "I have no idea what saved us, but if I'm right, I think that person in gray is responsible for saving our all of our lives."

"How… Why do you say that?" Master Lectris asked him, looking to the exhausted person in the gray cloak, slouching far in his chair and chest moving up and down.

"Because I thought that for an instant after the Sith's explosion, I saw a blue-tinted bubble encasing the flames and fast-vaporizing Sith. It would have killed us all, but I've never seen anything like it, nor did I think any such thing possible."

"Nandon," Master Skywalker walked up behind them, followed closely by Masters Sangreldor, Telsels, and Sarnar. "What happened?"

"That's what I was just asking Taric here," Master Lectris looked back to Master Skywalker. "But I think that, if what Taric has told me is correct, and I'm sure it is, that person over there." He pointed to the person in gray sitting in the chair. "Is responsible for saving our lives."

Master Skywalker nodded and turned back to the recovering crowd. "Sangreldor, Telsels, Nandon, Taric, I need you to come with me to talk to this person. Sarnar, I'll need you to organize an evacuation of this facility. Make sure everyone leaves quickly and quietly and no one panics. We're alive, but let's not botch the cleanup with a few distraught onlookers. They didn't ask for this."

"And we did?" Human Master Telsels stepped forward, challenging Master Skywalker's choice of words.

"You trained in the Force," Master Skywalker looked to Master Telsels, clearly not in the mood for such frivolous debates. "That makes you a target." He looked to Master Sangreldor, who bowed his head and stroked the silver line of fur down his chest and then to Master Lectris, who merely bowed his head in an almost reverence, as though he could personally relate to Master Skywalker's statement. Master Skywalker turned and walked to the person in gray, Taric following behind Master Skywalker's personal counselors. "You," Master Skywalker licked his dry lips quickly as he approached the person in gray. "What's your name? How came you here?"

"By transport," The person in the chair huffed with her female voice. "I'm sorry if I seem out of breath, but such an exertion of the Force doesn't usually come off as easy as levitation or speed, especially after almost two days with no rest on the account of chasing mad, suicidal Sith."

"What did you do?" Master Lectris stepped forward into the conversation.

"Can't you give me a minute?" The female asked, impatient. "I save your lives and you repay me by asking me questions? At least let me clear my head and catch my breath before I answer them."

"Do you know where you are?" Master Lectris asked her. "Do you know who we are?"

"Yavin IV, Jedi. All members of the Jedi Council, I'm sure, except for the little one by your side. If I remember right, I felt him as one of the ones graduating today." The woman did not turn her head from the perfect circular scorch mark a few feet in front of her and the chairs, which had truncated and burned whatever wasn't in the blast radius.

"Yes," Master Lectris looked at Taric and then to Master Skywalker, and finally back to the woman. "But how did you know all that?"

"Because," The woman stood up and faced them, pulling back her hood, revealing an incredibly young looking blue face with green eyes and gently sweeping her Twi'lek tentacles from her cloak and let them fall behind her. "I can sense you all, as I'm sure you are trying to sense me. But just because I'm neither Jedi nor Sith does not mean that I'm incapable of using the Force."

Taric closed his eyes, trying to sense out the girl. Nothing. It was strange, as though the Force did not exist in that singular place. He tried to sense his way into the strange void, but found he could not. He opened his eyes and turned to the Jedi Masters around him. "I can't sense anything."

Master Sangreldor closed his eyes, as Taric felt Master Sangreldor's acute Wookie senses feel out Taric for an instant before Master Sangreldor directed them towards the girl. "He's right. I can't sense anything. It feels like an Ysalimari, but instead of sucking in the Force, it seems like the Force simply doesn't exist where you are. How are you able to do that?"

The other Masters around Taric tried it too. Master Skywalker looked upwards, eyes still closed and tried to feel his way into her abilities. "Hm," He pondered, eyes still closed. "I've never felt anything like that. Usually we can barely sense the people who can't actively use the Force, but you seem… special. It's like you have no ability to use the Force, even though it seems like you can somehow."

"If it please you, Masters," The girl lowered her head reverently. "I'd rather not be interrogated just now. I've not slept in almost two days, as I've been tracking these… erm… former Sith."

Master Skywalker rubbed his hand over his scraggily tidy beard. "So be it, but we'll continue this in a few hours. In the mean time, we will provide you a room, food, and water while you wait. Try to get some sleep. We'll talk to you then."

"If it please you, Masters," The Twi'lek begged. "I'd much rather be on my way. I just wished to stop the murder of you and your students. I need to seek out those responsible for this very un-Sith atrocity."

Master Skywalker nodded humbly. "Please do not decline our hospitality. We mean you no harm, and we just wish to learn more about you and how you came to be here. Telsels," Master Telsels stepped forward. "Please show our guest here to my personal quarters." Master Telsels nodded and stepped forward to help the tired Twi'lek out of the ceremony hall, but Master Skywalker grabbed her by the arm and whispered in her ear so soft that Taric barely heard it. "Make sure you put two Knights and one Master outside my room. Don't let her escape."

Master Telsels nodded and helped the girl to her feet, placing his hands around her shoulders. "Siil, Aradom," He called out as he walked past the Jedi Knights, who were diligently working to evacuate all of the frightened spectators. "Will you please join me?" The two Jedi Knights nodded and helped to move the tired Jedi to Master Skywalker's quarters.

No sooner had she left the room than Master Skywalker turned to the rest of the group. "I need all Council members in the Council chambers in five minutes."

The Jedi Masters all nodded and left their duties to the Jedi Knights as they followed Master Telsels and the blue Twi'lek's path out of the hall.

"Master Skywalker," Master Lectris said. "I request that we allow Taric to sit in on this meeting as he was one of the people who saw exactly what the girl did, and I have a feeling that he'd be well suited for the upcoming mission I believe I see coming in your eyes."

"Agreed," Master Skywalker said hesitantly.

Within six minutes, Taric stood just on the inside of the Council's chambers, the rest of the Council having taken their seats around the circle. What mission did Master Lectris mention? Could Taric handle it, whatever it was?

"I've gathered you here to discuss the appearance of a new presence in the Force," Master Skywalker began, addressing the rest of the Council. "As you all know, there was an explosion downstairs and we all should have perished, but we didn't. Something stopped the blast. Taric," Master Skywalker looked past the Council and to Taric. "Pease describe to the Council, as you did to Master Lectris, what you happened to see immediately after the explosion in the hall.

Taric took a step forward, nervous. All eyes rested themselves upon him. How had he roped himself into this? He didn't ever want to speak before the council until it was an incredibly important matter, and this did not seem to carry an appropriate weight with it. Why did Master Skywalker think the containment of the explosion was such a big deal? Shouldn't they be dealing with the suicide bombings of the ceremony?

Taric took a step forward to address the Council, head bowed. "I didn't see much of anything, really. All I know is that one second I heard the explosions, and the next I looked up and saw a blue-ish bubble containing the near instantaneous fire. My guess is the bubble contained the oxygen, which the fire used up, and then extinguished itself with nowhere to go. I tried to see what had caused the bubble, but all of the Jedi's had tried to save the innocents around them. So I looked back and watched as the blue Twi'lek girl put down her hands and collapsed into the chair we found her in. That's all I saw."

"Thank you, Taric," Master Lectris smiled at him.

"Yes," Master Skywalker concurred. "Thank you for your quick reaction. If you hadn't seen that we would perhaps have lost the girl in the aftermath of the explosion. So it remains to be decided what we should do with the girl."

Taric tried to slink out the back door.

"Taric," Master Sangreldor called out to him. "Please don't leave just yet, we will need you for a decision."

Taric turned around and nodded, listening to the Council, but trying to make himself invisible.

"The fact of the matter is," Master Skywalker continued. "The girl used both ingenuity and a great connection with the Force to save all of our lives. She is incredibly powerful, as I'm sure you can guess by the gravity I'm placing on this situation.

"But how could you know that, sir?" Master Sarnar said. "I thought that you tried to sense the girl's power, but it wasn't there somehow."

"And it wasn't," Master Skywalker continued gravely. "But in her weakened state I felt her intense connection to the Force. She's a prodigy, like nothing I've ever seen before. She hasn't had any proper training if she's been off of our radar for so long; she's only twenty-two from the looks of it."

"But you have to remember, Master Skywalker," Said Master Essez. "That we Twi'leks age slower than most other species. We can't be sure of her age at all, as her youthfulness could be years, or even decades old."

"Noted," Master Skywalker nodded. "But we still need to decide what to do with her. She's an untapped power source, one the Sith would not hesitate to use against us. They may be fractured after the fall of Darth Stendalus, but the presence of multiple Sith factions does not mean that a powerful ruler couldn't take advantage of her. But I do not know if we can keep her here. Her presence and power would perhaps endanger the other Knights and Padawans should we lose control."

"I say we give her a chance," Master Sangreldor spoke out. "We could always use another Jedi, and it would give us an edge to have trained her, leaving a sort of tether behind if she ever lost control to the Dark Side."

"She's too powerful for any of this," Master Essez argued. "We should let her go and she will make her own way. If her presence has been unknown to us for all this time and she has made it so, she can undoubtedly stay hidden from the Sith."

"If I may, Master," Master Lectris held up his hand. Master Skywalker held out his giving Master Lectris the floor. "Now is not the time for this debate. We have a more pressing business regarding the Sith who attempted to destroy our home. I propose we send out two Knights to investigate the attack and determine our own course of action in that respect. Given the situation, I recommend we use the Twi'lek girl to help us. She seemed to be after those Sith responsible. I don't think it's a coincidence that these Sith, who follow an unknown new threat by the name of Darth Kolishnaru, show up at our doors on the exact day that the one girl prepared for them and powerful enough to stop them shows up. She wants these Sith as bad as we do. However, for us to send such an untrained Force wielder off to learn about our enemies by herself is foolish. I propose we send another Jedi Knight to keep an eye on her."

"I take it you already have an idea who to send," Master Sarnar said skeptically.

"I propose Taric," Master Lectris stated simply.

Taric performed a double take. Him? Investigate a Sith Lord? Did they really think him capable?

"I second Master Lectris's decision," Master Skywalker said, staring at Taric approvingly. "It would be a good first mission for Taric to perform as a newly appointed Jedi Knight and, as we all know I am sure, he has proved himself time and again loyal to both this Council and this Order and he is always open to new things."

Master Skywalker really thought so much of him? Taric failed to suppress his proud smile and it leaked across his face.

"Those in favor?" Master Skywalker asked the Council.

"Aye," Chorused the room in unison.

"Those against?"

No one spoke a word.

"Let it be so," Master Skywalker nodded and looked back to Taric. "Taric, you are to escort our Twi'lek friend and help her with whatever she needs. Learn what she knows about this Darth Kolishnaru, but under no conditions are you to engage the Sith. This mission will be strictly reconnaissance. Make sure she knows that."

"Understood," Taric nodded; he turned to leave.

"And Taric?" Master Skywalker called after him.

Taric whirled around and faced Master Skywalker. "Yes, Master?" He asked.

"Keep an eye on her. This void in the Force is too strange for us to ignore. She's a bit of a wildcard and we can't really trust her. If she turns on you, you are to defend yourself by any means necessary."

Taric nodded and left the Council chambers. Master Lectris and Master Skywalker both favored him, and he managed to get Council approval? He smiled as he descended the large spiral stone steps and made his way through the door at the base of the steps and out onto the grounds. The sun had emerged and his parents stood up from the bench beneath the tree outside the Council's temple.

"Oh, Taric," Taric's mother cried. "I was so worried! Thank goodness you're okay! What happened?"

"Someone saved all our lives," Taric said.

"Really?" Taric's father asked him. "And who is this someone?"

"We don't really know yet," Taric confessed. "But I'm going to find out. I'm on a mission from the Council."

"The Council? Oh dear! That's so exciting! Is there anything we can do to help, dear?" His mother asked, beaming with pride.

"Yeah," Taric looked over to the Transport ship far off in the distance. "I want you to get back on that transport ship and go home. I'll get into contact with you as soon as I get back, but I don't feel it's safe for you here."

"Of course, son," Taric's father nodded, clapping his son on the shoulder. "Let us know how you are when you get back."

His parents hugged him and his mother kissed him on the cheek before waving goodbye and walking off towards the Transport Ship.

Taric sighed. He hated making his parents leave like that. After all, they just worried about their his well being. He smiled. He was a Jedi Knight now. In this world, he needed to start worrying about his parents and taking care of them, keeping them safe. He turned and headed towards the apartment building on the other side of the ceremony hall.

As he approached the doors to the apartment building, Graden exited it and, seeing him, sprinted towards him.

"Where have you been?" She asked, hugging him tightly, obviously concerned. "I haven't seen you since the explosion! What happened?"

"I got a mission," Taric chuckled, still in disbelief. "Among other things."

"No," Graden looked at him suspiciously.

"Yeah," Taric smiled bigger, unable to contain his excitement any longer. "I have to go find the Sith Lord responsible for the bombings and report back to the Council."

"When do you leave?" Graden asked him.

"Soon," He said. "But for now I just have to go get my new, one-time-only partner."

"Partner?"

"She's this blue Twi'lek we found in the aftermath of the attack. We think she has some interest in the Sith group we're looking for, so the Council asked me to take her with me."

"Hmmm," Graden scratched her chin as she turned around and headed back for the apartment complex, pulling open the door and waiting for Taric to enter. "I thought I saw them escorting a blue Twi'lek away in the confusion afterwards, but I thought she was part of the attack. No matter. Can I meet her with you?"

"No! Why?" Taric looked at her. He doubted the Twi'lek would want to meet with him, let alone him with Graden. Graden wasn't the sort of person to just meet quickly and under a time constraint of pressure

"Because I think you could use some backup," Graden shrugged.

"You can wait outside," Taric offered.

"Or I could come inside," Graden persisted.

Taric sighed. "Fine. But if you get me in trouble, it's all your fault."

"Okay, okay," Graden said as Taric entered the apartment complex.

Taric pushed the button on the elevator and they waited paitiently for it.

"So… a girl, huh?" Graden asked, far too casually.

"Yeah," Taric said, not really wanting to travel down this road with Graden.

"Uh huh," Graden put her hands behind her back and rocked on her heels. "You should go out with her."

Taric glared at her quickly.

"What? It's true! You should."

Taric ignored her and remained silent from the moment the elevator doors slid open until they opened again when they reached Master Skywalker's floor, revealing a short hallway leading to his apartment. Siil, Aradom, and Mater Telsels all stood at the end of the corridor in front of Master Skywalker's door.

"How's she doing in there?" Taric asked, exiting the elevator and walking towards the end of the hall.

"She's doing alright," Master Telsels nodded to him. "What can I do for you, Taric?"

"I'm on a mission for the Council and I need to talk to the girl."

"She has a name you know," Aradom muttered.

"Really, what's that?"

"She called herself 'Rubes,'" Aradom muttered. "She's actually not made more of a peep than that since we locked her inside."

"Can I go in there?" Taric asked.

"Yeah, I suppose," Master Telsels nodded again. "Just make sure you don't disturb her. We have no idea who she is or why she's here." Master Telsels pulled a metal strip from his robes and zipped it on the lock, turning it green and sliding the door open.

Taric walked into the room, followed by Graden. There, on the couch on the far left wall slept the blue Twi'lek, 'Rubes.'

"Hey, ummm, Rubes?" Taric asked to her.

She didn't move.

"Rubes? It's me, Taric, the Knight who was graduating today? Remember?"

Rubes grumbled a response.

"Come again?"

"I said I know who you are. I felt you coming all the way from second the elevator doors opened."

"Well, that's interesting," Taric smiled weakly at Graden, who went and sat in a chair on the other side of the room. "Do you know why I'm here?"

"Don't you mean we?" Rubes asked him, still feigning sleep.

"No," Taric looked back at Graden. "No, this is my friend Graden. She wanted to meet you. But back to the original question, do you know why we're here?"

"You want to take me on a mission?" Rubes guessed sarcastically.

"Yes, actually," Taric nodded. "The Council wants me to find Darth Kolishnaru, and I need your help to do it."

"Don't you mean we?" Rubes repeated.

"No," Taric shook his head. "Unfortunately, I can't take Graden on the mission with me. I can only take you."

"Why me?"

"Because you know about Darth Kolishnaru already," Taric explained. "And the Jedi want to find out about him so that he won't threaten us again."

Rubes sat up. "All I want is to be left alone," She sighed. "Is that too much to ask? Yes. I come up here wanting to sleep because I made the Force do something that I'd only been practicing in theory for ten years, but I just want to get out of here and go on my way."

"You can be left alone on the way," Taric insisted, walking towards her. "And after we find out about this Darth Kolishnaru you can leave and go on your merry little way. But we have to do this first, otherwise you'll never leave. Do you know where he is?"

"He's on Eriadu," Rubes moaned and sat up, facing Taric and massaging her temples. "Can we go now?"


	6. Episode I Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I don't own Star Wars. No siree. I like the characters though ('cept Cade) cuz they's mine. And the color ideas: 'Dem's mine too.

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**Chapter 5  
Surprises**

"Eriadu?" Master Lectris asked Taric as they walked through the forest path to the landing pad, just as the transport ship that had carried the spectators to Yavin IV rocketed off and out of the upper atmosphere.

"That's what Rubes said," Taric nodded as a landing pad attendant flew Taric's own personal relic of a modified E-Wing fighter, _Planetary_,onto the landing pad.

"Rubes?"

"Rubeel Janston," Taric explained, cringing slightly as the attendant clumsily mistimed _Planetary's_ descent to the landing pad, clipping the wing slightly and creaking the landing gear under the sudden pressure of the too-fast landing. "That's what she said her name was as Graden and I left."

"And she told you nothing else about herself?" Master Lectris asked him.

"Nothing," Taric shook his head. "She seems very intent on keeping tight lipped and is incredibly uncooperative about sharing anything about herself, almost like she has a dark past she's ashamed of, so I didn't really try to squeeze any information out of her yet."

Master Lectris nodded. "Keep the Council informed of your actions and contact us once you reach Eriadu. I don't quite feel safe knowing that Darth Kolishnaru is there, but I wouldn't allow any other Knight to attempt this mission."

"I won't let you down, sir," Taric beamed at him. "But if I may ask, why is Eriadu bring up such a controversial subject among the Masters? When I asked Master Telsels about it, she gasped in shock and refused to speak about it."

Master Lectris looked over to Rubes, who sat nodding off in the chairs set up for those waiting for their transportation to arrive. "Have you ever heard about Grand Moff Tarkin?"

"Not really," Taric bit the inside of his cheek. "His name might have come up once or twice when we were studying the Galactic Empire, Emperor Palpatine, and the rise of Master Luke Skywalker. I can't say I know much about him, though. Wasn't he the man who created the Death Star just before the famous Battle of Yavin?"

Master Lectris nodded and smiled at him. "Yes, that was he. What people don't know about him beyond that, though, is that he ruled the Empire's arm in the entire Outer Rim before he died in the Battle of Yavin with an iron fist from Eriadu. Since his death, the factories and markets on the planet's surface have expanded and grown until the entire planet has degenerated into a filthy black market hub. It would be a perfect place for a Sith to hide, because no one would give up a Sith so easily." Master Lectris stopped as they reached _Planetary_ and the attendant climbed down the ladder to the landing pad.

"All yours," He smiled. "She handles like a dream. Where'd you get her?"

"Fondor, actually," Taric chuckled reminiscently. "I had just finished my lightsaber and went on shore leave with my parents to Drall and I let it slip that I wanted a ship of my own, because if I was a Jedi Knight I didn't want to have to use the Academy's ships. They routed their course through Fondor, one of the largest ship construction sites in the galaxy. I saw _Planetary_ here, and, because they were about to scrap her they gave her to me for really cheap."

"So your parents bought it for you?" The attendant asked, amazed.

"No, actually," Taric smiled, pleased with himself. "I had been saving up money for years and I blew it all on buying her and fixing her up."

"Well, she's an amazing ship."

"You have no idea," Taric stroked her hull affectionately. "She's like a part of me."

"You should see him fly it," Master Lectris smiled.

Rubes!" Taric called out to the half-asleep Twi'lek sitting on the chair across the landing pad. "It's time to go. You can sleep on the way."

Rubes stumbled up from her seat and walked towards the ship. With an exhausted grunt, she climbed the ladder and hopped into the backseat of the cockpit.

"You added an extra seat, too, I see," the attendant noted approvingly.

"Yep," Taric beamed. "I figured that I would need to take people with me in one ship to avoid conspicuousness. If that will be all…"

Master Lectris nodded. "Remember to contact us when you get there and," His voice dropped to barely above a whisper. "Keep an eye on her. Master Skywalker said that there's something strange her power that we aren't even sure exists. Something isn't right about this girl."

Taric nodded. "Of course, master." He scampered off the ladder and into the pilot's seat, placing the neural interface he had installed across his forehead and hooked the other portion in and around his left ear. "Ready back there?" Taric asked Rubes as he turned around to look at her.

"I wish I could fly," Rubes mused allowed, crossing her arms, closing her eyes, wiggling to get comfortable, and slurring some of her words. "I was never ever really good at it, and now, because of it, I have to ask the Jedi Council for help."

"Is that really so bad?" Taric asked as faced forward, punching buttons and flicking switches to prepare for takeoff. "Is there a better group to ask for help against the Sith than the Jedi Order? Name one group that would be a more sure bet than the Jedi."

"The Sith," Rubes muttered. "No group would want to take out the Sith more than other Sith. In this modern galaxy of factions, the Sith want to see the rest fall so that they can succeed."

"And how, pray tell, do you know so much about the Sith?" Taric asked, interested; he ran over a final check of the digital readouts in the panels around him.

"Years of experience," Rubes said even quieter, fading rapidly.

A chill shot down Taric's back. What was that supposed to mean?

Taric unlocked the steering console in front of him and placed his left hand on it, pulling it out to its normal position and punching up the engines with his right hand, roaring them to life. The steering console hummed to life beneath his fingers. He pushed the button for vertical thrusters and the ship levitated upward quickly. He pulled back and down on the console, shooting them forward and up out of the atmosphere, the ship rattling slightly under the pressure. Within seconds they had ascended into space.

How he loved to fly.

He punched in the hyperspace coordinates and waited for the computer to map out the path, making sure to not speed through any stars. He reflected back to the days of old, when computers had neither the maps nor the sophistication programmed to undertake such a time consuming task. When doing it by hand, people would spend hours, even days to make sure each calculation was perfect. Of course, the infamous siblings Gav and Jori Daragon made their living picking random destinations from random locations and mapping them out based purely on luck. Taric cringed. Inevitably, like all rash and reckless actions, the two discovered The Sith empire and started the never-ending struggle between Sith and Jedi. He looked back as he flipped open the cover to the lever that engaged the hyperdrive; Rubes had already fallen asleep, her blue skin putting pressure on the E-Wing's windows.

Taric puffed out a breath and a chuckle. What had she been doing before today that could have possibly made her so tired? Where had she been? What was she running from? Was she a Sith? How powerful was she, really? Was she a Sith?

Taric pulled back on the hyperdrive lever and rocketed forward into the blue tunnel of light speed.

Rubes slept the entire distance to Eriadu, leaving Taric comfortable to meditate, to just let all of the ideas and struggles bouncing around in his head take root and release as he liquefied them all and swallowed them into the recesses of his brain. His eyes closed, he felt nothing except the light hum and vibration of _Planetary_ beneath him, soothing him as he ignored all of the things around him and focused inward for hours. He had trained himself to meditate properly, without his mind wandering to ways to improve his saber style or what the Academy would serve him for dinner.

A beeping came from the ship's console and he opened his eyes, the blue of hyperspace spiraling around him. He looked at the time left before he would release the lever and waited until the timer hit zero before he released the catch on the lever and pushed it down into its spot, shutting the panel gently behind him as the ship instantly decelerated to what seemed like a crawl, throwing Taric forward slightly.

"Huh what now?" Rubes asked nonsensically as the deceleration threw her head forwards enough to jostle her awake. "What'd I miss?" She asked Taric.

"Not much," He confessed as he pulled the steering console out again and turned it to face the planet he caught to the left of his eye. He turned _Planetary _to face the looming gray giant planet.

Rubes sighed. "Nothing like seeing a planet from space, even if it is covered in pollution from the countless factories on the planet's surface."

Taric agreed. Looking at planets from space was enlightening every time in the same way space was: it showed him just how small and insignificant he was in the bigger picture.

He pulled back on the console and flew towards the planet.

"So," He began awkwardly. "_Are_ you a Sith?"

Rubes stayed silent for several minutes as they approached the planet.

"Or… you could just… not answer…" Taric shrugged as he prepared to enter the planet's atmosphere.

"I used to be," Rubes said simply.

"Used to?" Taric asked, slightly worried, keeping his ship level as he prepared to enter the putrid gray clouds covering the planet. "Wouldn't you want to stay a Sith? Aren't you crazy about power because you're a Sith?"

"It wasn't the right power," Rubes states dreamily, staring out of her window.

"Isn't power just power to the Sith, though?" Taric asked simply, keeping his eyes dead set on landing _Planetary_ before turning to look at Rubes.

"This power wasn't worth it. The cost in life was too high," Rubes finished an instant before they hit atmosphere, effectively ending the conversation.

Flames licked the side of the ship and up towards the windows as they descended into the rancid pollution around the planet. After a few seconds, the flames had ended and they began flying around a huge factory town beneath them.

Taric traced the comm system to the nearest mass communication hub. "This is representative Taric Nopling from the Jedi Order. Request permission to land?"

Static on the other side. At least someone was listening. Within a few seconds the voice on the other end acknowledged Taric's request with the deep grunt of a Gamorrean. "Landing pad C-4 in the northern complex of Factoryville.

Rubes groaned.

"What is it?" Taric asked. What could make such a potentially powerful Sith groan?

"It's a Gamorrean," Rubes complained. "They're horrible. Be ready to defend us."

"Me? What about you? You're competent enough to take care of yourself."

"It's your mission and your ship," Rubes yawned. "I'm exerting myself enough by cooperating."

"Exerting?"

"Just land the ship."

Taric scowled. What would the Gamorrean do? Would he extort them? Tax them? Impose a tariff? Would he threaten them? Did he not know what a Jedi was capable of?

Taric found the Factoryville landing complex after another few minutes. As predicted, the Gamorrean had opened the landing doors for their vertical shaft into pad C-4. Taric guided her in smoothly, hovering over the pad before pulling engaging _Planetary's_ vertical thrust joystick and guiding _Planetary_ down gently into the landing pad and set her to rest, feeling the landing struts compress gently under the weight. Amateur attendant at the Academy; all it took to land any fighter was a steady hand and a feel for the ship. Taric looked up as the deep gray landing pad doors shut, closing Taric and Rubes inside the landing pad.

Taric swallowed. Maybe the Gamorrean _would_ extort him. He pushed a button on the panel, raising _Planetary's_ cockpit shield. Taric stood up and looked to the door to the hangar, waiting for someone to enter their pad. The door opened and a platoon of five Gamorreans marched in, led by one decadently covered in obviously stolen relics. Taric jumped down out of the ship.

"Thank you for using our facilities, but I'm afraid there will be a fee to keep your vehicle here."

"Please," Taric looked to the other four Gamorreans, who all held pikes towards him, all ready to entice him gently to pay. "I'm on a mission from the Jedi Order. We'll remember your generosity."

"I don't think so," The Gamorrean laughed and shook his head. "You see, we don't care about your protection. We only care about ours. Many Sith run amok on this planet and we wouldn't want anything to happen to your precious fighter."

"Even so," Taric began. "I think we can come to some sort of agreement."

"Oh just pay him the damn money," Rubes had stood up in the cockpit and stretched, yawning. "Let's get out of here so I can go back to real life."

Taric grumbled and pulled open his robes, preparing to withdraw some credits. Rubes jumped and landed with a thump on the ground behind him.

Just as Taric had withdrawn one hundred credits, the entrance to the landing pad opened again and twenty-five Sith sprinted in towards the Gamorreans. The pigs turned around and squealed upon the sight of the Sith. They tried to turn around, but the nearest Sith held out his hands and pulled back, pulling an invisible string beneath all of the people on the pad and tripping them. The fall knocked the wind out of Taric. Where had the Sith come from? He struggled to reach his feet, still out of breath, but the sound of twenty-five lightsabers erupted around him as the Sith all circled him, Rubes, and the five Gamorreans.

"Kill the pigs, leave the Jedi," Came a voice approaching from the back of the group of encircled Sith. The pigs squealed as a single stroke from five Sith decapitated the five Gamorreans. Taric turned to Rubes, nervous and slightly disgusted, but Rubes seemed unafraid and unrepulsed; the look of concentration on her face showed determination and calculation. Did she really think she could take on twenty-five Sith? She looked back to Taric and drooped, dropping all pretense of performing a miraculous victory against the Sith and holding up her hands. Taric sighed and held up his arms in surrender.

A Sith Lord walked through the encircled Sith and made his way to Rubes and Taric. Taric could feel power, but nothing like what he had expected. He had expected an overwhelming feeling of intense anger and hatred, but instead felt just traces of apathy and greed, emanating like stink lines around him.

The Sith Lord pulled back his hood, revealing a scarred cheek and a mutilated ear. "Welcome to Eriadu, Jedi," He said scathingly. Without warning, Taric felt the hatred and disgust emanate from the man.

"Darth Kolishnaru," Rubes smiled sarcastically. "Your reputation precedes you."

"As yours doesn't," Darth Kolishnaru sneered at Rubes.

"Even though it probably should," Rubes smirked maliciously.

"Whatever that means," Darth Kolishnaru rolled his eyes. "Damn Jedi, always creating new riddles to try to confuse us. Clap them in irons, deprive them of their lightsabers and follow me," He smiled as he turned around. "It's going to be a long night."


	7. Episode I Chapter 6

Disclaimer: Definitely didn't create the Ysalimari or the Sith or any of that other stuff... Including Eriadu... But I created the characters and the ideas present in this story... How... exciting...

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**Chapter 6  
Ysalimari**

Taric looked down at the metal cuffs around his hands. They encircled his entire forearm and enclosed his hands in metal so that he couldn't use the Force with his hands. Of course, that wouldn't be any use to him and Rubes because of the conveniently placed slimy yellow Ysalimari Darth Kolishnaru had ordered placed into their cell. He stood up and walked to the wall of their cell opposite the blue force field containing them. He picked up the metal, and, with a last ditch attempt to break them apart, brought them as hard as he could on the wall.

The wall bounced his arms back off the wall, vibrating his cuffs horribly, making Taric's teeth chatter.

"Won't work," Rubes said to him, head on her knees and watching him, amused.

"It's better than whatever you're doing," Taric ground his teeth together and prepared for another strike on the wall.

"I highly doubt that," Rubes smiled, even more amused.

Taric cracked his cuffs against the wall, doing nothing more than leaving a small dent in the concrete. "And what, pray tell, do you have planned?"

"Faith," Rubes looked over at him sarcastically. "I've pulled my way through tighter spots than this. Darth Kolishnaru is a awful Sith. I don't even know why he kept us alive."

"To torture us to death?" Taric asked sarcastically.

"No," Rubes rolled her eyes. "How many times do people have to say that before they understand? The whole point of torture is to keep the victim alive for as long as possible so that the torturer can enjoy the full ecstasy of torturing the victim."

Taric stared at her, completely and totally speechless. Couldn't they have sent someone better on this mission? Someone less Sithy?

"I'm sorry," Rubes shook her head and turned to face the other way. "I keep forgetting who I'm talking to. I've been removed from the galaxy for too long."

"How long?" Taric asked.

"Long enough to know that I don't think I've been away for long enough," Rubes said humorously. "It's been a long time. I only came to the Academy because I heard a rumor of Kolishnaru's group planning an attack on the Jedi. I didn't come here first because by the time I heard the information it was too late to both come here and stop the bombing." Rubes sighed. "Sometimes I wish I just stayed out of the way."

"Why?" Taric asked, bewildered. "You saved the lives of a hundred Knights and masters and more than forty innocents. How is that not worth anything?"

"Because I've done horrible things?" Rubes fired back.

"What could be so horrible that your saving almost a hundred and fifty people can count for next to nothing?" Taric leaned back on the wall and slid down it, knees folding up into his chin.

"We don't know each other well enough for me to answer that question."

"That bad, huh?" Taric asked. Rubes fell silent, clearly ending all conversations and wanting to wallow in her self-induced pity fest. Taric reflected on her, from her blue Twi'lek skin and her odd clothing that did not seem to match anything reminiscent of a Jedi Knight or a Sith Lord and instead seemed like civilian clothes, to the twin holsters on her belt for a two sabers. They had removed her sabers and given them to Darth Kolishnaru. How had they not checked her when they brought her into the Academy? Was she really carrying the two lightsabers that Kolishnaru had taken from her the whole time? And where did she come from? Where was she for this "long time" she referred to? How good was she with the Force? Could she really duel with lost art of dual lightsabers? Maybe she would face Taric if they ever made it out of here.

"Shhhh," Rubes hissed, as though Taric was making noise. She stood up and walked to the blue force field and leaned to one side to see down the corridor. She turned around within a matter of seconds. "Someone's coming. Follow my lead." She walked to the back wall and stood next to where Taric sat, but she did not sit down as Taric had predicted. He looked up to her, but noticed she did not stare continuously at the force field and instead flitted her eyes back and forth from the slow moving Ysalimari in the center of their cell and then back to the force field and then back to the Ysalimari.

What was she planning?

"Food," The Sith apprentice stopped in front of the cell holding a tray of some sticky paste and placed it on the small tray slot for the cell and pressed a button, opening a hatch and sliding it open.

"What is it?" Rubes asked intently, still calculating with her mind, stalling for time.

"It's wheat," the Sith apprentice stated dully. "It's standard for all prisoners here."

"Really?" Rubes asked feigning interest. "That's neat. Do you have anything more to eat? I'm rather hungry."

"Just wheat," the apprentice said, growing annoyed.

"Seems like a waste to put someone like you on prisoner patrol," Rubes said casually. "Why aren't you in the head room making some important decision?"

"Because I… well-err," The Sith stumbled.

"Because why? You would be a valuable asset to the Sith," Rubes nodded. "You could definitely woo every female you come into contact with."

The Sith looked left and right down the deserted hall. "You know I've been saying that for the weeks since I've gotten here," He nodded, slightly put out.

Rubes bit her lip and took a step forward seductively. "Can I tell you a secret?"

"Yeah," The Sith said taking a step forward. "Whatever you want."

Taric looked up at Rubes. What did she want from the Sith? This wouldn't help them escape. He looked at the Sith whose eyes had filled with a passion visible even from the other side of the moving blue barrier of light.

"The more I think about you, the more I feel like I'm turning to the Dark Side."

Taric looked from Rubes to the Sith guard quickly. What was she trying to do?

"Really?" The Sith guard smiled devilishly. "Now that's attractive."

Taric felt something clench his stomach, staring at the Sith's slight potbelly and overgrown nails. He tucked his chin in towards his neck, denying his gut reaction to retch.

"Yeah," Rubes said, incredibly seductively. "Open the cell, and I'll show you what I'm really made of, and you can decide if I'm bad enough to be a Sith."

Within a second, the blue force field had dropped and the Sith had already entered the cell, fumbling with the belt on his pants. Without a second's hesitation, Rubes pushed herself off the wall and sprinted towards the Sith. She jumped, caught the Ysalimari in her two feet, and flipped backwards, kicking her legs out and sending the Ysalimari zooming towards the Sith.

It smacked the enemy Sith straight in the face, squelching against his eyes and leaving streaks of slime and yellow goo. Temporarily blinded, the Sith yelled in surprise, trying to wipe his eyes of the sticky yellow essence.

Rubes landed and recovered almost instantly, pulling her cuffs up and cracking them across the Sith's fragile skull, echoing a loud crack around the hallway. The guard crumpled to the ground as Rubes, still not wasting a second, kicked the Ysalimari that had landed next to the Sith down the hallway. She focused on the Sith's belt, levitated the key card to release her arms to the appropriate slot on the cuffs, and slid the card through the cuff locks. The cuffs unclasped and fell to the ground. Rubes snatched the card from the air while massaging her sore wrist with her other hand. She held out the card to unlock Taric's cuffs, but he just sat there, still trying to absorb what had just happened.

"Come on," Rubes insisted and waving the card in front of his face. "Let's go. We need to get out of there."

Taric stared just to the left of the fallen Sith. "But how will we get out of here? They've probably impounded _Planetary_ and there are about thirty Sith out there and I still want my lightsaber back. How do we do all that?"

Rubes smiled and went to the opening for the force field, looking both ways. "I have an idea. My sabers are too good to give away too."

_This will never work. This will never work. This will never work._

Taric kept repeating the phrase in his mind. How could this plan possibly work? As he approached the center of the Sith complex and the large room ballroom in which Darth Kolishnaru undoubtedly held his group of Sith knights, he ducked behind some crates and tried to move inconspicuously towards Darth Kolishnaru, whose over-glorified, cheaply constructed throne stood in the center of the room. Sith stood watching as Darth Kolishnaru shot lightning from his fingertips, brutalizing a Rodian with his power. The Rodian screamed nonstop, and at the end of each lightning session, collapsed to the floor, limp, but the Sith only gave him two or three seconds before they hauled him back to his knees and resumed the torture, each scream louder than the last.

Darth Kolishnaru laughed coldly. "Two things I've learned from this: lightning won't kill someone if used properly, and Rodians are incredibly resilient creatures."

The other Sith laughed coldly, savoring the Rodian's pain.

Taric shivered. How could anyone be so heartless? The Rodian's screams alone made his blood curdle, but the addition of the laughter and enjoyment towards the suffering unsettled him. He should take them all on. Give him a lightsaber. He'd take them all on and win. He moved past another cargo crate, but in his haste tripped over a corner of the container and stumbled forward, and, losing his balance, fell and slid across the slick floor.

Darth Kolishnaru stopped the energy crackling from his fingers and turned to face him, mimicked by twenty-five other Sith. Taric looked up and chuckled slightly, grinning as big and wide as he could, flashing his white teeth. They squared off for an instant before the Sith sprinted forward, trying to take him in.

Taric jumped up and onto the top of the nearest container and then above to the one higher than that. "Why do you have to chase me?" He asked as the Sith's red lightsabers clicked on, led by the Sith who jumped onto the crate following him.

Taric turned around to face the Sith on the top of the container and backed up towards the edge, half-slipping when he reached the edge of the container. He held up his hands in apology. "My apologies," He said, stuttering slightly and smiling. "I'm new at being a Jedi Knight and sometimes my subtlety isn't the best."

The first Sith charged him, pulling back his saber over his head to strike. Taric moved forward and, at the proper second, rolled backwards, kicking him over the container and onto the floor. He landed on his feet, watching as the other four Sith followed their companion's path to the ground with their eyes. They all looked up and two Sith moved towards him this time, slower than the one before them, learning from their downed comrade's mistake and holding their lightsabers by their hip in a ready position.

"Plan B," Taric muttered under his breath. "Are you sure you want to do this, Darth Kolishnaru?" Taric called out, out of ideas.

"But of course, my boy. I look forward to the day when I can finally exterminate all the Jedi, and this puts me one more Jedi towards that goal. Now if you had a reason for me not to kill you…" Darth Kolishnaru's voice trailed off hopefully.

"Do you remember the Twi'lek who came in here with me?" Taric called out, holding his hands up and hoping the enemy Sith would stop walking menacingly towards him.

"And what of her?" Darth Kolishnaru said back, bored.

"She's taking my ship," Taric looked over his back shoulder quickly, trying to see Darth Kolishnaru. "And I want my ship back."

"And why in the galaxy should I help you?" Darth Kolishnaru asked back.

"Because she's a powerful Jedi, one easily susceptible to the Dark Side, and I know her and she'd be a valuable asset to her cause."

Darth Kolishnaru sighed loudly. "Fine, fine. Bring him down to me unscathed."

The two Sith reached Taric and jumped forward, grabbing him by the arms and holding tight; they jumped down to the ground and landed in front of Kolishnaru. The two pushed down on Taric's shoulders, forcing him to his knees as Taric gazed up at Darth Kolishnaru, his smile dark and sinister as he looked down upon the defenseless Jedi Knight.

"Thank you for the advanced warning. But give me one reason to keep you alive."

"Because the Jedi Order knows I'm here," Taric smiled. "They all know. I comm-ed them before I landed and they know I'm here. If I fail to check in within a matter of hours they'll bring the entire Order here and take you all out."

"But only if that were true," Darth Kolishnaru smiled even more sinisterly. "Did you not hear about this morning?"

Taric stayed silent.

"Did you talk in person with a Jedi Knight or Master?" Darth Kolishnaru smirked.

Still, Taric did not speak.

Darth Kolishnaru laughed loudly, throwing back his hand and revealing the pieces of lightsaber crystal covering the holes in his teeth. "How foolish you are! This morning I sent forward a few acolytes under the technique I stole from Darth Oligarchus to destroy the Jedi Temple during a graduation ceremony. No one could have predicted such an attack and now I'm one step closer to a complete Renaissance of Jedi Purge and Sith rule, with enough power to rival even that of the great Darth Oligarchus. The only ones who remain are the select Jedi Embassies on Coruscant, Mon Calamari, Kashyyyk, and Umgul. Your kind is through and the Confederacy will find the rise of a new group of planets: those under Sith rule. After that, we can take over through legal means purely for the enjoyment of it all.

"But rather than leave you to your own displeasure and kill you, we will instead have some fun, won't we?" Darth Kolishnaru addressed his Sith Knights, who all laughed, anxious to see Darth Kolishnaru continue. "Finally, a Jedi who can withstand my tortures."

He pointed one finger ceremoniously at Taric as some of the Sith moved forward, restless in their wait for Taric's screams, one pushing his way to the front, hood over his head. Taric could almost feel the Sith licking their lips as he closed his eyes, trying to prepare himself for the unbearable torture about to befall him. He would not scream. His screams would satisfy them, and he refused to die like this, on his knees before a Sith Lord and serving the entertainment of the Sith.

"Are you ready, young one?" Darth Kolishnaru asked him, deviously.

Taric didn't justify with a response. Darth Kolishnaru scowled and tensed his arm, snapping his perfectly starched robes. "So be it."

Taric cringed, preparing himself again. Nothing happened. He barely opened one eye, but saw that, try as he might, Darth Kolishnaru kept unsuccessfully attempting to strike Taric with lightning.

"Why isn't it working?" He shouted angrily.

"Maybe it's because you're horrible at using the Force" The female voice from the Sith who had pushed forward to watch Taric's torture said. "Couldn't you tell?"

"Don't question me! I can kill him! Just like I have countless others!"

"Not with this here you won't," The girl chuckled and withdrew a slimy reptile from her robes and threw it at Darth Kolishnaru.

Caught unawares, no one reacted as they watched the yellow thing fly forwards until Darth Kolishnaru caught the Ysalimari in his hands.

Rubes ripped off her stolen Sith robes and sprinted forward to Darth Kolishnaru and ripped the three sabers off the left side of Darth Kolishnaru's belt. She tossed Taric's lightsaber to Taric and placed her two sabers in each hand, careful to put each one in a specific hand. She smiled as she clicked them on, the light instantly emanating and making Taric's green-rimmed, blue-cored saber suddenly look both unoriginal and unimaginative.


	8. Episode I Chapter 7

Disclaimer: No. No one helped me with the storyline or characters. They're mine. And I'm not selling this. Ergo I make no money on it. And I don't own Star Wars. No siree...

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**Chapter 7  
Balance**

Taric paced. He paced back and forth, unsure of what to tell them. How could he describe what had happened? It seemed so impossible. How had what he had just seen revoke everything that they had taught him at the Academy about the nature of both sides of the Force? An impossible concept? Did she really speak true? Had she truly-

The door in front of him opened and Master Lectris stepped out and ushered him in. "The Council will see you now, Taric."

Taric nodded, feeling himself go green in the face. Would they believe him? It seemed impossible. And yet, Master Skywalker himself had claimed he had felt something strange about her. Maybe this was the answer.

"Remember to speak truthfully," Master Lectris whispered as Taric entered the room full of circle chairs and stood in the center like a peninsula surrounded by the sea of the Council's chairs. Taric inhaled and exhaled slowly, still trying to remember the story.

Master Skywalker scrutinized him for a moment. "Taric, would you please inform the Council of what you saw after you were captured on Eriadu?"

Taric exhaled and began, weaving the story behind his imprisonment. How Rubes had used seduction and the Ysalimari to escape from their cell. He told them of Rubes' plan: how she had planned to use Taric as a distraction while she snuck in, disguised in the Sith guard's stolen robes and how she had used the Ysalimari to stop Darth Kolishnaru from torturing Taric.

"She saved my life with that Ysalimari," Taric said, humbly.

"Fair enough," Master Skywalker nodded. "But please, continue."

"So she tossed the Ysalimari at Darth Kolishnaru to distract him and then leapt forward, grabbed my lightsaber and her dual ones and we prepared to fight. It went so fast I barely saw it happen. _And _the Ysalimari had prevented her from using the Force."

Master Skywalker nodded. "But what happened next, Taric? You said that her lightsabers were unlike anything you had ever seen before. What made them so special?"

"I'd never seen anything like them, sir," Taric confessed. She turned them on, and they distracted everyone so much, that, were it not for the scream of the Sith nearest to her when she sliced open his stomach, I doubt we would have moved for several minutes."

"But what made them so special?" Master Skywalker continued. "Surely they could not have been as fantastic as your green and blue innovation."

"It was the color, sir," Taric said. "The color was shocking."

Rubes had placed both of her two lightsabers in her hands after she had tossed the third to Taric. She whipped them out to the side as she ignited them to life.

In her right hand, her dominant hand's saber shot out a blade of white light, bright and almost blinding to look at. From the saber in her other, weaker hand sprang a blade of deepest black, as though absorbing all light in a small radius around it.

Taric stared in wonder. Where had she gotten the crystals for those? How long had she had them? They moved gracefully as Rubes turned around and slashed the Sith on her right, splitting open his stomach. The Sith awakened from his loss of words and screamed, grabbing his stomach to keep his organs from spilling across the floor.

The Sith reenergized and pulled their sabers from their robes while Taric looked around, igniting his own and drawing it around to slash at the Sith nearest to him. All that mattered was survival. He needed to make it out of here so that he could finish talking to Rubes and learning about her. He still did not know much of anything about her.

The Sith blocked his blade with a quick flash and a sizzle of the crackling energy of green and blue on red. Their sabers flew apart and the Sith drew back his saber for an offensive blow, but Taric ducked to a knee and sliced at the Sith, splitting his kneecaps. The Sith cried in pain, crumpling to the ground and holding his torn ligaments and bones.

Without warning, the entire room descended into chaos. Sith closed in on both sides, giving even Taric a challenge to keep up with the combined effort to stave off so many sabers and Sith. Once or twice, he glanced over to Rubes, who seemed to be able to take on her twelve just fine, kicking and elbowing Sith back, moving her white and black sabers so fast that, when she was fighting at her prime, they turned into a black blur encased in white. She managed to consistently press every advantage available to her, from the double block of both sabers, to a quick bolt of lightning to stun the opponent and then attempting to strike him down, to attacking with one saber while she tossed her own saber out to attack an unsuspecting Sith. One by one, her opponents fell, even faster than Taric could fall his, her gracefulness helping her speed, her attacks resembling a butterfly.

Taric did his best to stave off his tirade of near ceaseless Sith. Within a quarter second he had managed to block the back of his neck, his left knee, his right wrist, and his right forearm, while still budgeting in improvisational time to strike on the offensive. But the more and more he looked over at Rubes, and how graceful she was, dancing a dance of perfect organization and tact, the more he wanted to train with a second lightsaber.

The Sith closed in on him, slowly, prepared to attack from all sides with a barrage of strikes. They all had a look of hunger and hatred on their face, as though they were not responsible for the fight around them.

Taric, panting, smiled. "Are you kidding? Do you really think you could hit me?" Taric laughed. "You won't even be able to pull off a few hits with me one on one.

The first ran forward and Taric blocked his high attack and sliced him across the chest. Feet still planted, he bent backwards and blocked the second person, using his shoulders to force the Sith backwards, and he stumbled back into his fellow Sith.

Taric began striking and blocking wildly, still having the signature power behind his strikes, but moving faster than he ever had, invigorated by the adrenaline of a real fight to challenge him. He kept looking around, keeping his eyes off of Rubes as much as he could, making sure that he could keep his eyes moving three seconds ahead of his strikes. He bent backwards and spun his saber around, hitting three Sith, who fell to the ground, forcing the rest back. Little by little, he managed to fall them, taking out one for every twenty strokes.

He looked to one of the Sith who ran up from the back of the Sith and watched as he reached out his hand in an attempt to catch Taric off guard and pull him towards the other Sith. Reflexively, Taric whipped up his arm, blocking the Sith's attempt, and pulled towards him. Caught unawares, the Sith flew up into the air and over the Sith, over Taric. Taric swept his saber over his head as he cut the Sith in the air as he flew over him.

He kept his left hand off of his saber to give himself better maneuverability with his saber. As the number of Sith began to wean down, Taric tackled each challenge more proficiently. Within another minute, he had left only five Sith standing, the rest cringing, huddled on the ground, or unconscious from the loss of limbs.

"You really want to do this?" Taric said between breaths. "What makes you really think you can beat me?"

"The power of the dark side," leered the Sith directly in front of him.

"Right," Taric said sarcastically and looked up to see Rubes, but she had gone. Somewhere in the rest of the room, sounds of sabers clashing together and lightning striking walls and boxes echoed around. Taric sighed. When would the Sith learn? "Well, it's been nice beating you all."

They charged quickly as one. Taric blocked the sneering Sith's hit first and rolled sideways, the Sith jumping over his rolling body. Taric sprung up through his quick use of the Force, managing to get out of the circle. Taric reached out his saber and, still twirling, struck the Sith's back. The Sith yelped in surprise and fell. They still continued to charge him. He ran forward, slashing upwards. The Sith blocked his attack and prepared to block the second, but Taric only recoiled slightly from the attack and pushed his saber into a quick retaliatory strike, catching the Sith completely off guard. He fell, clutching his side. The third Sith jumped high, attacking down through the air. Taric shifted slightly, using his saber first to block the Sith's away, forcing it forward and then cutting, ripping the Sith in half, and sending both halves to the ground, floundering. The last two Sith attacked as one, coming in from the front, a good distance away from each other to prevent getting into each other's cross slashes. Taric blocked each one's attack in turn, quickly shifting from Sith to Sith in his blocks. In a quick, instant lull in the fighting Taric swung out to the Sith on his right, making the Sith jump backwards in surprise. Taric turned to the second Sith, who, suddenly frightened, struck down, clashing his saber with Taric's eliciting the sound of squishing energy next to each other. Taric pressed his saber out, pushing the Sith to his back. Taric jumped up and stabbed straight down into the Sith's gut. The second Sith, whom Taric had tried to slash sprinted up behind him. Taric slid his lightsaber behind his back, blocking the Sith's attack. Taric spun and dueled with the Sith. Within a few hits, Taric fell to one knee and slashed across the Sith's chest.

He exhaled and clicked off his lightsaber, looking around to the fallen Sith circling him; he stood and sprinted out into the rest of the room, hoping he could find Rubes somewhere in the room by following the sounds of lightning and clashing. He rounded a box in front of him and slid to a stop, watching Rubes duel with Darth Kolishnaru, uncertain if he really understood what was happening.

Rubes dueled as she had before, gracefully, and like a butterfly, but what surprised Taric was her use of lightning to strike Darth Kolishnaru in lulls in the fight. She'd slash and strike and attack Darth Kolishnaru, but she would manage to sneak in bouts of perfect force usage, but all powers she used were powers associated with the Dark Side. Her lightning flew in arcs, not measly bolts as most Jedi's did when they chanced a lightning strike, and Taric felt something dark inside of her, as though her rage grew with each and every hit.

Yet, something about her remained pure and good. She seemed to be in control, and Taric felt a conflicting presence in her, as though a battle between the Light and Dark commenced within her. The Light seemed to suppress the Dark and she had complete control over her rage.

Taric felt it surge up in her again and she attacked Darth Kolishnaru faster than before and he struggled noticeably to keep up. He had to block twice as fast as normal, and it became increasingly obvious that even he knew he was fighting a losing battle.

He took a vain stab at Rubes, and she ducked out of the way, pointing her sabers downwards at shoulder level and slicing outwards, cutting off his hands. Darth Kolishnaru fell, his saber clattering to the ground. Taric stood speechless as Rubes switched her lightsabers off and clipped them to her belt and then lifted Darth Kolishnaru by the throat, using the Force.

"Ha" Darth Kolishnaru laughed through the pain, choking slightly, holding back the tears, and then shifting his gaze to Taric. "What are you going to do, Jedi? Kill me?"

Taric sensed out to feel Rubes' power again; the light suppressed the dark and fell back under what Taric and Master Skywalker initially felt as a void, but Taric now realized as more than just a void in the Force, a place where two halves of the Force cancelled each other out. Rubes looked back to Taric and smiled humanely. No Sith could have possibly smiled in such a way. Who was she? She whipped her hand aside and tossed Kolishnaru into the nearest wall, where he struck it and slid down it, unconscious.

Rubes breathed heavily, exhausted from her battle with the Sith and Darth Kolishnaru. "So, do you think we should tell the Council?"

"And we sat there and waited for you to arrive," Taric explained to the Council, and, finished with his story looked over to Master Lectris and then back to Master Skywalker.

Master Lectris nodded, satisfied and the looked to Master Skywalker in the chair next to him. "It matches up with what we can sense," Master Lectris nodded.

The Council nodded in agreement as Master Skywalker twisted in his chair.

"I still do not know what to do with the girl," He confessed.

"Master," Taric looked down to the ground instantly, unsure if he should address Master Skywalker in this time of serious deliberation. "I propose that we let the girl speak for herself. She did save all of the Academy's life yesterday and my life another time after that. Were it not for her, we would all be dead, and, assuming that we even did manage to find Darth Kolishnaru, I would be dead. She has credibility, and if she wanted to kill us all, as if her true allegiance was to the Dark Side would undoubtedly bid her, we would all be dust right now."

Master Skywalker smiled at him. "Very well. We will hear her side of the story. Have you anything else to say in her defense?"

"Only to point out that she hasn't done anything to harm us. But I've already told you everything I know in that respect."

"Very well," Master Skywalker said, the faintest twinkle of hope in his eyes. "Bring her in."

Master Lectris nodded and stood simultaneously with Master Sangreldor and walked to the door and opened it. Two Jedi Knights entered, holding the cuffed Rubes, a small Ysalimari on her shoulder. Master Lectris nodded to the two Jedi, who left, and took hold of the shoulder with the Ysalimari and guided her to the center of the Council's room. Taric took a step back to leave, but Master Sangreldor grabbed his arm.

"Don't leave. We want you to hear this so that you might better understand her."

Rubes stood at the front of the room as Masters Lectris and Sangreldor took their seats on either side of Master Skywalker. She looked back at Taric and smiled warmly.

"Rubeel Janston," Master Skywalker began. "Or so you claim to be. You've been-"

"No," Rubes interrupted. "My name _is_ Rubeel Janston, and it's true that my personal choice of nickname is Rubes. The thing that isn't quite true, and I just want to tell you all, is that it was the name I went by for a year."

Master Skywalker stared at her. "And what, Rubeel, would you say is the name that you went by for the time you speak of?"

Rubes sighed, seeming remorseful over the name she went by for that year. With a breath, she looked around to the rest of the Council weakly before turning back to Master Skywalker. "Darth Neutralic."

A ripple shuddered around the Council members and they broke into whispers at once, hissing to one another.

"Neutralic? I thought she died." Master Sangreldor whispered to his left.

"In the Battle of Dantooine-" Master Essez whispered back to Master Sangreldor.

"So is Stendalus alive?" Master Telsels hissed to Master Lectris.

"What happened to her?" Master Lectris turned back to Master Telsels.

Master Skywalker held up a hand and the Council fell silent within a second. "Darth… Neutralic, then. That raises more questions than it answers. Where have you been since the Battle of Dantooine? This Council was under the impression that every Sith involved in that Battle died as a result of your actions."

"Every Sith?" Rubes looked down to the ground, remorseful. "That's not something I'm proud of, even in front of the Jedi Council."

"When the Council arrived on the scene, we found wreckage orbiting the planet. Darth Stendalus had turned it into a graveyard. We recovered a recorder from among the wreckage. It showed the lead Star Destroyer's course towards ramming into the other two and destroying all three. It said that the person in charge of navigation had used your command codes to set the ship's final course."

"It's true," Rubes nodded. "I did set a course towards the other two Star Destroyers, but I took an escape pod off mine in the last seconds, my will to repent for my deeds while under the thrall of the Dark Side overpowered my desire to simply end my life with a final destructive blast and explosion of three Star Destroyers colliding."

"So where have you been all this time?" Master Skywalker asked again, arching his fingers and placing his elbows on the arms of his chairs, prepared for her answer.

"Dantooine," Rubes said. "It has been a source of Jedi learning and teaching going back over five thousand years to the Old Republic. At one point, the planet was the site of the Jedi Academy of the Ancient Jedi Knights and the Rebel Alliance utilized the planet as a base for their operations just before the turn of the war at the legendary Battle of Yavin. I decided that, after the massacre of both Sith and New Republic citizens, that no one would disturb me on the planet while I did my best to regain the control I had lost with my former master had murdered all those civilians. It was there that I replaced my red lightsaber crystals with two special, one-of-a-kind crystals I found while excavating the many caves all over the surface of Dantooine. I meditated often and it was only when they finally cleared out the skies above Dantooine and a new group of colonists chose it as their site for a new candidate for the recently created Confederacy that I managed to blend in and get off the planet and onto a ship that took me back to Coruscant when a few of the colonists returned for a hearing about the planet's progress so that Dantooine might be recognized in this New Confederacy that had been created after the Battle of Dantooine. When we landed, I overheard a plot from a few Sith about the bombing of the Academy. I even overheard their plans about the black market and the Sith's hold on the planet of Eriadu. In a moment of decision, and my unwillingness to stand idly by again and let another massacre happen, I came here and stopped the Sith. The rest of the story you know."

Master Skywalker nodded and leaned to the side as Master Sangreldor whispered something into his ear. Master Skywalker nodded again, this time in acknowledgement.

"Darth Neutralic," Master Sangreldor began, pulling away from Master Skywalker.

"My name is Rubes," Rubes said again, completely calm and in control. "I would very much appreciate it if you all did not use the name my former Sith master gave to me."

"Very well," Master Sangreldor growled. "Rubes, would you please describe to the Council how your Force powers function. We have heard a description from young Jedi Knight Taric here, but we would like to better understand how you manage to keep such control in the face of an eternal enemy of the Jedi Order."

"Ten years of control," Rubes stated simply, and smiled innocently, yet weakly. "I trained and meditated for ten years to insure that I would never ever lose control again. But I found that because the Dark Side had so tainted my initial learning of the ways of the Force it was impossible for me to completely discount its existence and go cold nerf on my utilization of it as a tool. I thusly trained to master my use of the Force by using the power of the Light side to control my use of the Dark. The temptation is still there, but I've conditioned myself into learning how to completely control it."

Master Skywalker turned to Master Lectris quickly and whispered something and then turned back to Rubes. "Thank you. That will be all. We will call for you later once we have fully decided how to properly handle this situation."

Rubes nodded and waited for Master Sangreldor to escort her from the room. As she passed Taric she flashed him a wink. He smiled weakly back at her.

"Now, Taric," Master Skywalker spoke to Taric once Rubes had left the room. "Does this match up with what you felt when she dueled Darth Kolishnaru?"

"Absolutely," Taric nodded. "It fits together perfectly with what I saw and felt."

"Think you so?" Master Skywalker asked him. Taric stared at him in mild shock. Was he wrong? Had he thought incorrectly during Rubes testimony? "I agree. The stories match up and the void of the Force we can all feel in her is indicative that she is indeed in total control of her choices and emotions. The wonder is that she managed to stay hidden so long. Are there any recommendations as to what we should do with her?"

"We can't let her go," Master Ancies, the only other Ulcitian at the Academy besides Graden, said. "It would be shortsighted and foolish for us to let her go, in case she isn't telling the truth. She is an incredibly powerful Jedi if she took down the thirty Sith we know were on the bridge of Stendalus's Star Destroyer and Stendalus himself. Should we let her go, it would be irresponsible to let such a potential threat roam out there freely."

Master Skywalker nodded. "That goes almost without saying. Then first we should vote on whether we should keep her here or not. Those against keeping Rubes here?"

No one spoke. The Jedi all looked around to each other, unanimous in their decision.

"I thought as much," Master Skywalker nodded. "Then the question remains, what do we do with her now that we are in agreement to keep her here? Suggestions?"

The Jedi looked around to each other again, wary of the most readily apparent suggestion about Rubes' fate. Even Taric looked. Would they do it?

"We could treat her as we would any Sith," Master Essez said amid the silence. "I know that we have seen all the evidence presented and that it all points against her being a Sith, but there is the chance that she is a very good liar and would pounce on the opportunity to kill us all." No one spoke against him. "But I'm not saying that I believe that is the right course of action. I for one am of the opinion that-" He faltered slightly. "That she would make a very strategic and important asset to the Jedi Order."

Master Skywalker smiled to Master Essez. "Thank you for voicing what we couldn't, Master Essez. I for one am of the opinion that she would make a very good addition to our Order. Are any in opposition to this idea? Can any see a reason for us to not keep her in the Order, apart from the already almost perfectly refuted idea that she is indeed a Sith?"

No one spoke. Even Master Telsels, whom Master Skywalker trusted because of his consistent questioning of Master Skywalker's decisions, stayed silent.

"Then that is decided," Master Skywalker smiled, looking almost relieved. "The Council has spoken and Rubes will stay on with the Jedi Order."

"But how will she stay?" Taric asked, unaware that he had indeed voice the words in his mind until the Council all turned to look at him.

"What do you mean, Taric?" Master Skywalker asked.

"Do you mean that she is to stay here in a wholly advisory capacity? Will she perform missions? Will she be on janitorial duty? How will she be staying here?"

Master Lectris beamed at him. "That's a good point, Master Skywalker." He said.

"Too true," Master Skywalker nodded. "I myself have been so wrapped up in her discipline and use of the Force that I didn't think of how she would stay. Taric, you seem genuinely interested in the matter. Do you have an idea on the subject?"

"I propose," Taric swallowed and looked around to the Council. "That we make her a full fledged Jedi Knight." The Council rippled again and he raised his voice slightly. "She has already gone through more in her learnings of the Force than most Jedi will in a lifetime, and as you have already acknowledged, she would be a valuable asset to The Order. Make her a Jedi Knight and we can fully utilize her skills to help us and, because Knights travel in couples and groups on missions, we can make her a partner with a Knight to make certain that she does not, should it happen, lose control like she did at the Battle of Dantooine."

Master Skywalker smiled. "Do you have any ideas on who to partner her with?"

"Well, she confessed to me that she is not a good pilot, so the Knight would have to be a decent pilot, and because she will be a new addition to the Order and a newly appointed Knight, it only makes sense to put her with another recently made Knight."

Master Lectris grinned, understanding Taric's proposal. "Those are very specific requirements, Taric. Do you have someone in mind?"

Taric smiled, unsure if he was proposing the best of ideas. "I realize that you had planned to make me partners with both Aradom and Zemdol, but I think that, given the situation, I think you should make those two partners and couple me with Rubes. I can keep an eye over her, and there are very few knights who could even match her and her dual sabers. I'm your best choice, and you all know it."

Master Skywalker smiled proudly. "Those opposed?" He asked the Council.

No one spoke a word, each Jedi Master looking at Taric.

"Then it's decided," Master Skywalker said, finality in his voice. "You will be partners with Rubes. But only if you promise to keep an eye on her."

Taric nodded. "I won't let you down." He turned, satisfied, and exited the room to meet with his new partner.


	9. Episode II Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Yeah. I own all the ideas behind my story... but... not Star Wars nor Jedi nor any of that... You know what I mean.

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Episode II: Lessons

Chapter 1  
Turning Point

Master Lectris leaned back against the wall, arms folded, twiddling wistfully with the ring on his left hand, and wholly prepared for the entertainment his former student and his former student's new partner were about to give to him. Normally he didn't sit back and watch training sessions such as these, preferring, rather, to moderate and keep the students from hurting each other, especially when they dueled with real lightsabers. This time, however, he placed himself in the mindset of not interfering. He trusted Rubes to pull back. If she really was as strong and in control as Taric and she herself claimed to be, then he had nothing to worry about, as she would pull back before she went too far.

When it came to Taric, however, Master Lectris wasn't entirely sure if Taric would pull it back, but Master Lectris trusted his own Force powers enough to pull Taric off of Rubes before it became too dangerous, although, when it came down to the grit of it, Master Lectris figured Taric was in for a shock. Taric had based his fighting style on honor, fair play, and, most importantly, one lightsaber. The dual saber method was an almost entirely extinct art form. Few had mastered it in the past century and the best dual wielder Master Lectris had seen was just a week before the Battle of Dantooine in the early days of Darth Stendalus's rise to power, when he had attempted to stop the mass breakout of the prisoners confined in the spice mines of Kessel Darth Stendalus had meticulously planned during his rise to power.

"This way," Cade beckoned Nandon, human Rinda Wastich, and Sangreldor down the ramp of his ship, _The Mynock_, and into the stuffy, stifling catacombs beneath the spice mines. "We need to get to the control room. The mines are designed so that it can purvey over all activities, be they related to the prison or the mining, but we still need to travel up a few levels to get there. When we get there, we can seal off every hanger bay and make sure the almost freed prisoners don't escape until New Republic forces arrive."

They traveled through the dark catacombs at a run, passing by the occasional fixture on the rocky red wall, sending them into light and then into the near darkness. As they moved up further into the correctional facility, the fixtures became more and more numerous. Yet still they traveled up through the levels and towards the control room.

Just as they were about to break into the main facility, Cade stopped them with his hand. They all slid to a stop, silently. Cade opened his fisted hand and beckoned them to sit down. They all knelt patiently, waiting for Cade's word to continue. Cade unclipped the lightsaber from his belt and closed his eyes.

Nandon shut his own eyes in meditation. Cade had felt something. What had he-There! Nandon felt the surge of dark side in the Force. He listened, focusing on the little echoes around the tight spaces within the catacombs, hearing the faint traces of two people talking. He couldn't quite make out exactly what they were saying, but he recognized the Sith presence. He turned his eyes to Cade. Cade opened his palm, revealing his lightsaber, and levitated it with the Force. He closed his eyes and sent it forward and around the corner into the adjoining room. No one moved for a few seconds until Cade smiled and jilted his arm slightly. The adjacent room echoed with a lightsaber igniting, a sharp sigh, and a crumple to the floor. Someone grunted in surprise and then cried out quickly before falling to the ground with another sound.

Cade held up his other hand and beckoned them to follow him. He sprinted into the next room and his lightsaber jumped up into his hands as he passed; the other three members of his personal Jedi Knight task force squad, the Jedi Select, sprinted to keep up with him. Cade planned his routes more strategically in the future. They did not encounter many other Sith and passed by the many prisoners incarcerated in their cells. Cade sprinted up higher and higher until they reached the corridor just outside the control room, where all four of them skidded to a halt.

There, in front of them, stood a group of four Sith, guarding the entrance, waiting for their arrival so that they might prevent the Jedi from stopping Darth Stendalus. They each smiled and ignited their lightsabers in turn. Cade's Jedi Select whipped aside their robes and snatched up their lightsabers, fully prepared to defend themselves.

They squared off against each other for several more seconds until Cade and the lead Sith charged each other, and they each began to duel. Of course, within a matter of strokes Nandon had subdued his opponent, catching him off guard with a well-timed twist of hand and use of the Force to trip up the heels of his adversary. The rest of the Jedi Select dispatched of their antagonists within a few more seconds.

"That was too easy," Rinda huffed once and clicked off her saber.

Sangreldor groaned in agreement. "I thought so too. Surely that can't have been all that Darth Stendalus brought with him."

Cade held a finger up to his lips and walked slowly to the door and pressed his hands on the pad next to it. The door slid open and they all stepped inside, watching as Darth Stendalus stood next to two other Sith, clad in red, who both turned around upon the door's sliding open.

"Just in time to see me sow the seeds of discord in the New Republic," Darth Stendalus smiled, heaving a great sigh and looking down upon the main grouping of the six levels of cells. "But I can't let you stop me now." The two dark Sith in red peeled back their hoods revealing their scaly, rough Trandoshan skin and façades. They licked their lips in preparation for their anticipated bloodbath and clicked on their lightsabers and held them up to their cheeks, ready and humming with light, prepared to duel.

"Sangreldor, Nandon," Cade said calmly, flicking on his purple saber. "Dispatch of these two. Rinda, we'll take Darth Stendalus."

"Oh yes," Darth Stendalus chuckled. "Yes, please help him, Miss Wastich. It will not only amuse me, but he'll need all the help he can get."

Without another word, Cade and Rinda leapt over the two red Sith and at Stendalus while Nandon attacked one of the other Sith. He dueled with the Sith, recalling how much he needed more practice with his saber. He flung his Sith across the room once, but it merely pushed off the wall with its feet and jumped back towards him, recommencing his duel instantaneously. Nandon weakened and buckled at the knees, waiting for some sort of opening against the Dark Jedi. He blocked high and clashed against the sizzling saber of the opposing Trandoshan, pressing down far enough until he could elbow the Trandoshan across the face. Nandon kicked the Trandoshan to the ground, and with the rotation of his wrist, he pressed his lightsaber directly into the Sith's chest, finishing-

A cry rang out across the control room, a horrible, spine-chilling cry. Nandon whirled around to watch the skirmish between Darth Stendalus, Cade, and Rinda. Cade stood up from where Stendalus had flung him while Rinda breathed shallow and quick the bottom of Stendalus's saber staff protruding from the center of Rinda's back. She switched off her lightsaber and let it clatter to the floor, its blue blade withdrawing into the saber's metal sheath, and, when Stendalus yanked his staff out of her, fell to the ground, her breathing suddenly staggered and shaky.

"No!" Nandon cried out as he sheathed his lightsaber and sprinted to Rinda, sliding to a stop and holding her head in his lap.

Cade stood up, still dazed, but doing his best to regain his senses.

"Don't you understand?" Darth Stendalus asked them rhetorically, having turned around to press the buttons again, as though he had just stopped to drink a glass of water. "You can never beat me. No Jedi could ever beat me. You'd need an entire army of light and dark all rolled into one to destroy me, whereas all I need to destroy the New Republic is a little bit of- ah! Here it is." He brought up a file on the computer screen that switched on one of the entire panels of glass keeping the control tower separate from the prison itself. "And now you see how the New Republic treats his prisoners."

"Murderer!" Nandon hissed, holding back the tears.

"Now, now, let's not say anything we'll regret," Darth Stendalus said lazily as he pulled a comlink out of his robes. "Are you ready, my love?"

"Ready, Master," Came the voice of a girl on the other side.

"And now you see the New Republic begin to fall apart," Darth Stendalus smiled and pressed a button. The glass computer screen flickered with the images of the hard, slave labor and abuses in the spice mines. "Now, be honest. Do you really want the people who condone these actions running your government?"

Cade scrambled to his feet, switching his purple lightsaber on again and charging at Darth Stendalus, holding his saber up, prepared to strike at Stendalus.

"When will you Jedi ever learn? You can't defeat me alone," Darth Stendalus pulled out his staff and ignited it, twirling it around in front of him several times and then holding it in a ready position at his side.

Cade brought his right and left hands down together, but just as his right hit shoulder level, Cade's left hand whisked to the left and called forward Rinda's saber, igniting it and attacking wildly, in an untrained, improvisational style uncharacteristic of him. It caught Stendalus off guard initially, and threw him to the defensive. Eventually, however, due to Cade's lack of training with dual sabers, he lost ground until with a wild swipe with both sabers to the right, Stendalus used one end of his staff to push Cade's oddly shifted weight to the ground and kicked Cade to the left, knocking him unconscious.

Sangreldor and Nandon stood up completely prepared to attack Darth Stendalus.

"Please," Stendalus said skeptically. With a move so fast that even Nandon didn't have time to react, he pushed Sangreldor and Nandon into the walls of the control room.

He pressed a button on the main panel as he left, and with not so much as a courtesy "If it were not for the New Republic's imminent arrival, I'd kill you" he left.

And as Stendalus stepped over Nandon's quickly fainting head, he heard the release of hundreds of convicted prisoners to help the Sith cause. Stendalus slammed the door behind them, sealing them away from the release of hardened criminals, alone with the two fallen Sith and the dead Rinda.

Master Lectris sighed as Rubes and Taric customarily circled each other.

"I warn you," Rubes smiled. "I'm fast."

"Oh please," Taric looked around in disbelief. "I saw you dueling Darth Kolishnaru last week. That wasn't fast, that was child's play. I've seen padawans move faster than you, but if you think that's fast it just means I won't have to try too hard to beat you."

Rubes pulled off and ignited her sabers, keeping the light and dark separate. Taric ignited his green with blue saber and continued circling.

"I'm waiting, you know," Taric attempted to entice Rubes' sense of pride.

"I figured," Rubes shrugged, keeping her eyes focused on Taric. "But at this rate, we'll be here all day. It's about time you figured out what's going on. I could have killed you by now."

"Not a-" But Taric never finished. Rubes shot a bolt of lightning at him. He blocked it with his saber, phasing its normally perfect shape and lining for a brief second, and deflected it into to the glass observation lounge for students who screamed and ducked out of the way. Taric watched the lightning leave a small scorch mark and smoke from the bolt before he turned back to face Rubes, and, once again, raised his lightsaber in reaction.

Rubes had already started to charge him. She took both sabers and swung them to her left, striking with an attack twice as powerful as a normal one. Taric blocked both of them. Master Lectris smiled. Maybe Taric would learn that Rubes' combined power and speed wouldn't let him take anything for granted. Before Taric could even fully recover from Rubes' first strike, she struck again, this time using her left hand to almost wipe the air in front of Taric. Taric held his saber out lengthwise to block, shifting focus from Rubes' left arm to her right, which attempted a cross slash across his chest. Taric blocked again, but Rubes moved far faster than he had anticipated. He barely managed to keep up with her, much less learn a pattern among her attacks. They seemed like a random assortment of other styles and moves from other previous saber users, something he could not adapt to.

He managed a few times to sneak in an offensive strike, and even once they had locked sabers, Rubes' two clashing on Taric's in a battle of wills.

As near as Master Lectris could tell, Rubes had outmatched him, especially when she used a well placed and timed kicked to break the lock and jump down to attack. Master Lectris shook his head. One of the things Taric never managed to wrap his head around when it came to saber duels: the entire point of a saber duel is not only to demonstrate one's proficiency with a lightsaber, but also one's ability to think on one's toes, even if that meant not using the saber and resorting to Force powers and physical attacks. Eventually, one would come along with a physical attack that would teach Taric how to improvise properly.

Rubes and Taric continued dueling. Truth be told, Taric could match Rubes swing for swing if only he could manage to learn how to think like his opponent. Taric missed plenty of golden opportunities to attack her, and although her dual sabers made her slightly more powerful than normal, they still needed to travel slow enough so that Rubes' arms wouldn't attack one another.

Rubes jumped back from a strike on Taric, and leapt into a position, with her left saber stretched out front and her right curled above her head.

"Had enough yet?" She asked, barely out of breath.

"Are you kidding? I think I'm winning!" Taric panted.

Rubes sighed and walked sideways towards him, preparing to attack him with her two sabers. Taric used his saber to push one to one side and then the other and slashed wildly at Rubes' stomach. Rubes jumped back and swept her arms in front of her, clearing the path. Taric brought in his saber, and they clashed another few times until Rubes switched off her black saber and holstered it just as she kicked Taric's saber right out of his hand. It twirled several times before it landed in the silt of the training room some feet away, kicking up a small cloud of dust as Rubes angled her white saber across Taric's chest, keeping it a few inches away from his chest, but making sure that she kept the end near to his neck.

"Yield?" Rubes offered.

Taric raised his hands up and took a step back; Rubes sighed. Master Lectris clapped, Taric and Rubes turning to face him.

"Good, you two," Master Lectris finished clapping. "Very good effort from both of you." He turned to Rubes. "Out of curiosity, how long did it take you to master your dual sabers?"

"A couple of weeks. I just instinctively knew how to do it," Rubes shrugged.

"That's a rare gift. I've never seen anyone master dual sabers like that."

"That's what Stendalus said," Rubes looked to the ground. "He said I was a natural and that I'd be a valuable asset to him because he, himself, trained with the staff."

"I remember that," Master Lectris nodded, somewhat remorsefully. "I take it you are aware of the trademark weakness in your style?"

"Of course," Rubes smiled. "So I try to minimize it and turn it into a strength as often as possible."

"Weakness?" Taric asked, confused. "There's a weakness?"

"Master Lectris?" Cade's voice came over the intercom system in the room. "Your presence is required in the Council's chambers."

"Of course," Master Lectris nodded. "I'll be there momentarily," He turned back to Taric and Rubes. "I need to go discuss something with the Council, I'll be back later."

He turned around, kicking up a little silt and, as he walked away, levitated Taric's lightsaber to him, still unsure why the Council required his presence.


	10. Episode II Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Meeting

Master Lectris pushed open the doorway to the Council chambers, seeing the entire Council already seated in their seats, staring at him as he walked in.

"My apologies," Master Lectris bowed his head. "I was watching the first of the soon to be many duels between Taric and Rubes."

"That's quite understandable," Cade nodded to him as he sat down. "Now, as you all know, there has been limited Sith activity since the fall of Darth Stendalus, but I have a feeling that Darth Kolishnaru was only one of many. It is entirely possible, after the breakout of the many prisoners from the Spice Mines of Kessel, which a few of us remember very well, I am sure," Cade nodded to both Master Lectris and Sangreldor. "A great number of Sith did defect and manage to survive the Battle of Dantooine. As we all know, that Battle did kill off many of them, but a group of a few certainly probably left to blaze their own trail across the galaxy. Unfortunately, it has come to my attention that the few splinter groups we initially dealt with immediately after the Battle of Dantooine have fractured into even smaller groups, each led by another Sith leader. Last night, on my travels back from Coruscant and my meeting with the military leaders of the Confederacy regarding Rubes, I did receive a message from a trusted source on Nar Shaddaa. He told me that Sith activities on the moon have grown steadily over the past few weeks. I have reason to believe that something involving the different factions of the Sith is happening there, so I propose we send an envoy of the Jedi, disguised as Sith and find out what's going on. This seems too big for the undertaking of a couplet of knights, or even a single one, so I would prefer we send a Jedi Master, preferably a Council member on this mission. I would also like for the sake of appearances, to have the Master who will be attempting this mission to take with him a minimum of two knights."

"But how do we know that anything's really going on?" Telsels asked. "What if it's really nothing and it just turns out a fluke? What then?"

"Then it's a fluke," Sangreldor looked to him. "I actually like the idea. It's daring and sounds like a good chance for us to keep up with the Sith Underworld."

"And it lets us know why, all of a sudden, the multiple splintered factions of Sith have a desire to get together on the same small, crime-filled world," Master Essez nodded, rubbing his chin in contemplation. "Master Skywalker, do you have anyone in mind?"

"You could send me and Rinda," Nandon suggested as Cade sat in the _Mynock's _pilot's seat, fingers arched and eyes closed, waiting patiently for their trip through hyperspace to come to an end.

"Why?" Cade asked. "I don't see any reason to let you plunge yourselves head long into such a daunting task."

"But Stendalus took out the Academy," Nandon pleaded. "We need to retaliate and rebuild. Drop Rinda and me on Corellia. We'll get a ship and track Stendalus. As far as I can tell, we four are the only Jedi left."

"All the more reason for us to stick together," Sangreldor looked over to the sleeping Rinda, sprawled out on the couch in the _Mynock's_ lounge. "Cade, can we really risk losing any more Jedi?"

"No," Cade stated. "But we need to learn as much as we can so that we might stop Darth Stendalus when the time comes." He thought about it for a few minutes before he grabbed the hyperdrive's lever and pressed down on it, jolting them forward slightly as they decelerated. Cade altered the ship's course, pulling on the console and typing in coordinates to the hyperspace drive. "Alright, but at the first sight of danger you need to get out of there." After another minute he shot off into hyperspace again, this time en route to Corellia. "Don't make me regret this," He warned Nandon.

"You won't," Nandon sighed as he looked with dismay over to Rinda.

"Do you really think that wise, Nandon?" Cade shifted in his seat, as though he felt uncomfortable with the suggestion. "It will be dangerous and you are in the process of training Rubes."

"She has Taric to watch out for her, should anything happen to me," Master Lectris replied, completely ready for Cade's strategies against him. "And she is already an impeccable Force user. She's completely in control; I think you were right to call her a prodigy."

Cade stared at Nandon, and they looked to each other, speaking the unspoken words to each other they had learned from their years together.

"Very well," Cade nodded to him. "Do you have a group picked out already?"

"Yes, Master," Master Lectris nodded. "I would like to take Rubes and Taric with me. Taric and Rubes are both more than able to handle a hoard of Sith at once and Rubes could use the training and experience with mission protocol."

Cade nodded. "Very well," He repeated. "Those in favor?"

"Aye," Came the chorus of echoes around the room.

"Against?" Cade asked.

As with every other vote they had cast recently, no one spoke.

Cade nodded, almost disheartened. "Then it is so, Master Lectris. You will go with Taric and Rubes to Nar Shaddaa to learn about this congregation of Sith. I'll put you in contact with my operative when you get there. You will leave in the hour."

Master Lectris nodded and with a swish of his robes, left the room.

"Nar Shaddaa?" Taric asked Master Lectris over his headset as Master Lectris finished punching up the pre-flight of his personal K-Wing, _The Zenst _sequence and took off vertically, rocketing into the sky.

"Yep," Master Lectris said into his comm link and looking down among the trees of Yavin IV as he flew over them. "That's where Master Skywalker told us the congregation of Sith is taking place."

"And why are we going?" Rubes asked casually, staring out of her glass bubble for passengers watching the gray clouds of Yavin IV flit by.

"Because you volunteered," Taric said sarcastically.

"I didn't volunteer," Rubes protested, taking her chin off her hand and looking over to Taric. "Master Lectris, I didn't volunteer, when did I volunteer?"

"When you signed up to be in the Jedi Order," Master Lectris flicked three switches above him. "Alright, I'm just finishing the hyperspace coordinates, hang on."

The lights blurred as time slowed and they shot forward into the blue of the hyperspace tunnel. Master Lectris rigged the hyperspace computer to wake him when they reached the coordinates. He looked back to Rubes, who was already trying to fall asleep, and to Taric, who stared wistfully out of the window into the blue. Master Lectris smiled, content, and closed his eyes, drifting off into the unconsciousness of his precious sleep.

Before he even had time to realize that he had fallen asleep, the beeping of the hyperdrive shook him awake. He bolted forward in his seat and clicked the buttons, fully prepared within a second to drop the ship out of hyperspace, hand on the lever.

"Huh what?" Came a slurred voice from behind them. "Are we there?"

"Not quite," Master Lectris watched the Hyperdrive navigation map and pushed down on the lever just when the computer told him to. The ship lurched forward, the blue faded, and the stars slid back into focus, the planet of Nal Hutta zooming into view.

"I can recognize that planet anywhere," Rubes sighed. "I wish I didn't have to come back here. It was bad enough the first time."

"Why? What happened the first time?" Taric asked.

"Enough," Master Lectris finished the topic for Rubes.

No one spoke as Master Lectris flew into the Docking Hangar on the orbiting planet of Nar Shaddaa nearest to the location Master Skywalker's operative had told them all. Even now, in the rise of the Confederacy and new focus on Hutt ability to control both the small Middle Rim and the Outer Rim from a strategic point on the border between both, the Hutts still did not believe in security on their small crime ridden moon. Perhaps the crime encouraged the Hutts to not heighten the security; not because the Hutts relied on their local criminals to protect them, because that'd be too trusting for a Hutt, but rather because if they began spot checking and adhering to the Confederacy rulings on planetary security then they would lose their wide base of loyal followers.

With a dull thunk, _Zenst _placed its struts on the dock and sank slightly under the weight. Taric, Rubes, and Master Lectris stood up as their individual bubbles of solitude unsealed and opened for their exit. As Rubes jumped off the K-Wing, slower than everyone else, a Rodian walked in briskly, a note clutched in hand.

"Master Nandon Lectris?" The Rodian asked, holding out a letter for Master Lectris.

Master Lectris looked over to the Rodian. "Yes?" He asked politely.

"I have a message from Master Cade Skywalker," The Rodian said, looking behind his shoulder. "He said that you need to get a place to stay, the more expensive the better-"

"And who's going to pay for that?" Rubes asked as she walked past Master Lectris, eyes on the Rodian. She walked to the door of the hangar bay and shut it. "The Academy?"

"Every year, the Confederacy takes out a large bond to cover Academy expenses. For the most part we use it to clean up our messes with constructions and the like, but these types of mission expenses fall under the bond payable to the Confederacy," Master Lectris explained simply. "Why? What did we miss?"

"Nothing," The Rodian said. "I just got off of my conversation with Master Skywalker and recommended that you have the most luxurious things possible. The Sith really notice money and power. They only notice power if you overexert yourself or manage to give off a vibe of intense power, but the money comes a little bit easier."

"Recommendations?" Master Lectris asked.

"Master Skywalker already had me call in a reservation at _Vert Towers_," The Rodian told them. "It's just a few blocks away, and it's incredibly upscale, perfect for the garnering the Sith's attention. You're staying in room 92584. First, follow me to _Lekku's_. It's a cantina just down the street from _Vert Towers _and it's incredibly seedy. Most of the Sith who enter there and make some display of their power come out with smug smiles on their faces. Whatever is going down with the Sith will start there."

"Where did you say we were going?" Rubes asked as the Rodian approached her, heading out of the door and into the corridor of the spaceport.

"_Lekku's_," The Rodian said, with a slight glance to Rubes.

Rubes bristled as Master Lectris pulled the card key to their ship out of their hanger bay's lock. Master Lectris looked to Rubes, knowing why she bristled so.

"What's wrong, Rubes?" Taric asked her, noticing her discomfort.

"It's the name of the place," Rubes cringed noticeably. "I can only imagine what's going on in there."

"You won't have to imagine for much longer," The Rodian said quietly as he pressed his hand on a door pad halfway down the corridor. The small door opened and the Rodian ducked inside, emerging seconds later with an armful of black robes. "If you want to pass for Sith, you'll need to blend in as Sith. No Sith would ever wear brown."

"You can say that again," Rubes said, grinding her teeth, still suffering from the connotation of a bar called _Lekku's_. "I once recommended something other than black to Stendalus and his knights. They looked ready to kill me for my blasphemous suggestion."

"Stendalus?" The Rodian dropped the robes to the ground. "As in Darth Stendalus?"

Rubes shot him a look, shutting him up with an expression of "now is neither the time or place" etched all over her face.

"Rubes, what's going on with Lekku's?" Taric asked, still pushing the subject and incredibly intrigued.

"It's these," Rubes wiggled her tentacles once in an act of almost annoyance. "These are my lekku. It's where Twi'lek comes from. Two lekku. A bar like _Lekku's _is undoubtedly full of Twi'lek s. It disgusts me how many of my species fall into the same exact trend and stereotype of the generations past. My species should take steps forward and become more proactive in the government and push to educate themselves and make themselves a more respectable species as opposed to glorified sex slaves."

"Ummm, Rubes?" Taric asked, black robes suspended over his head.

Rubes looked around. Things in the corridor were levitating in the air. Taric's robes had stayed planted over his head before he pulled them down over his body. The Rodian's blaster had floated and twirled around in midair. Master Lectris tossed up several credits, suspending them in midair, keeping them floating and turning around.

"I like not having to levitate things by myself," Master Lectris smiled.

"Sorry!" Rubes half-shrieked and let the objects all fall and clatter to the ground, Taric's Sith robes falling over his head. "I get angry when people subjugate my species."

"It's perfectly understandable," Master Lectris groaned as he bent over to pick up his credits. "Don't worry about it."

"Just try to pick the things you lift next time," The Rodian complained, picking up his blaster, which, thankfully, had not discharged.

"I don't have control over that," Rubes blushed.

"But I thought you had total control," Taric said skeptically.

Rubes stuck her tongue out as the black robes slipped over her head.

"Can we just go?" The Rodian asked impatiently. "I'm already risking my cover enough by helping you out like this." He turned around and walked into the main great hub of the spaceport. The Jedi followed him, cloaked in robes and hoods pulled up.

They stepped out onto the streets of Nar Shaddaa.

"I hate this place," Rubes said grimly.

"Me too," Master Lectris nodded. "It doesn't hold very good memories."

"Why would a Jedi have reason to come to this sorry excuse for a moon?" The Rodian asked Master Lectris. "All it's got is crime, sex, and crime."

"One day," Master Lectris half-promised. "Now, let's go to _Lekku's_."

Rubes huffed in protest, but Master Lectris shot her a look and she lowered her head. "And I have to wear this disgusting excuse for galaxy fashion while I do it," She complained.

"Aren't there any other places?" Master Lectris asked the Rodian as he began to lead them across the sky bridges and walkways that covered Nar Shaddaa. "I don't think taking my student here to _Lekku's _sounds like a good idea."

The Rodian looked back to make sure Rubes pulled up the back of the group, conversing with Taric. "If it were up to me, after seeing how she reacted to the mere mention of _Lekku's_, I'd completely agree with you," the Rodian whispered in a hushed voice. "Truth be told, any bar would suffice as the entire city is crawling with Sith right now, but Master Skywalker told me to pick Lekku's because of your Twi'lek friend here."

"But why?" Master Lectris looked back to Rubes, not completely satisfied with Cade's decision. "Won't taking her to _Lekku's_ just make her mad beyond belief and ready to lash out at any person who does anything to her in that place?"

"As I understood it from Master Skywalker," the Rodian's voice dropped even further. "That was exactly why he chose Lekku's, and knowing what I know about these new Sith, I can't say that I blame him."

"Why is that?"

"Both Master Skywalker and I want our little Twi'lek friend to blow up. It's part of his plan."


	11. Episode II Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Actually... I own all these characters, but not Star Wars... Star Wars is way to cool for anything I could come up with... But I will say all these story elements and characters and such... Mine. Steal them and I kill you... Or I stop posting... whichever one ends up easier in the end...

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**Chapter 3  
Fight **

With the implementation of the Confederacy, Nar Shaddaa had fallen into an even lower level of vice. Lude, provocative posters lined the vertical buildings, graffiti staking patches of areas under the control of the splintered criminal underworld rampantly covered the windows and walls of alleys, claiming each tagged area as belonging to a different gang or species. Of course, the concept of autonomous species gangs was laughable. Everyone knew that each and every gang reported to the Hutts in the end. The Hutts controlled everything about both Nar Shaddaa and Nal Hutta and had even gained a seat on the Confederacy because of it, giving them not only a voice in the overall workings of the galaxial political system, but also complete and total nce over their sphere of nce, which included both planet and moon. Policing their region of space was the Hutts' responsibility; this both rarely happened and never played a major role in the Hutts' rule over their giant two-planet conglomerate of drugs, and crime.

Leave it to the worms.

Master Lectris passed by the sixty-seventh poster advertising , this one showing a green Twi'lek with her hands sensually and suggestively placed on a red one, who looked at the onlooker so seductively that for a fleeting instant Master Lectris half-toyed with an idea in his head before rejecting it, twisting the ring on his finger lovingly.

The Rodian kept his eyes focused on the streets and the passers by, some drunk, some scantily clad, some shady looking, as though they wanted to sell the next miracle product or were about to gun down the next person who talked to them; the Rodian turned down a main street here, or a boulevard there, but never ventured down an alley, preferring to steer around them altogether. Every so often, he would look back to make sure that Master Lectris, Rubes, and Taric still followed closely behind them.

At long last, they turned a corner and halted at the courtyard surrounding _Lekku's_. Master Lectris looked up to the bright flashing screen, flashing bright images of Twi'leks in moments of passion and awkward, yet pleasurable positions, faces of pain and pleasure stretched perfectly across the screen.

Master Lectris looked down to Rubes, wholly prepared to throw up. Rubes looked to him, sickness and rage lining her face. Taric seemed slightly riveted on the screen. He wouldn't let Rubes know outright, but he kept chancing glances upwards to the screen when he thought no one else was watching him.

"Makes me sick," Rubes muttered softly. "Three thousand years of potential growth and this is what the galaxy have come to."

"No," Master Lectris put on his most comfortable smile. "This isn't what the galaxy has come to, it's what the Hutts believe the galaxy has come to and because its selling, very well, I might add, they have no desire to destroy their way of life because of a singular, female Twi'lek."

Rubes glared at him, unwilling to be patient for his sake.

"Even if that Twi'lek is one of the most powerful Jedi ever." Master Lectris finished.

Rubes sighed. "Let's just go inside and get this over with." She led the way through the small masses of people. Rubes pushed by the sights around her, Master Lectris felt Rubes' shields falling slightly from her anger. The door slid up and Rubes went in without waiting for the other three. Master Lectris exchanged a concerned glance with Taric and entered the bar behind their Rodian contact.

Nandon pushed open the door to _The Bleiles_, ushering Rinda in ahead of him.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Rinda asked him.

"No," Nandon confessed, looking around to the assortment of characters in the Corellian cantina. In the corner a huge Hutt rested on a slab, staring at the two dancing Rodians on poles in front of him. Around the bar itself stood other poles from ceiling to the wide countertop where different females from exotic species danced for the pleasure of the men surrounding the bar itself. "I'm quite certain this isn't a good idea."

They walked to the bar and sat down in two empty seats, waiting for the bartender to ask them to order so that they might in turn ask him a question. After a few seconds of staring around, a human with a huge scar across his face that streaked from his forehead across his right eye, nose, and went to his lips walked up, cleaning a glass with a filthy rag.

"What'll it be?"

"Information," Nandon slapped ten credits on the countertop.

The bartender ed them up so fast Nandon doubted that he had actually put credits on the bar. "What do you need? Meeting with the Hutt in the back? A name?"

"We need a ship," Rinda broke in. "Money out the door. Untraceable, reliable and can seat more than one and can get us where we need to go. We need it within the hour."

"I don't know if we have any people in here like that. I could ask around, but that could take a while," the bartender scratched his mangled chin as he looked at his clientele.

Nandon slapped another ten credits on the bar and kept his fingers on them so that the bartender couldn't take them. "Are you sure? I know that some of your customers have to be regulars and one of them has to be able to sell a ship to us."

"I'll see what I can do," the bartender nodded. "No promises."

Nandon slapped down another ten on the counter with his other hand.

"I'll be right back."

The bartender left to walk around the circular bar. Nandon turned to Rinda who smiled at him. "Just be careful how much you're spending; we'll need some of that money to buy the ship. This bartender is easy. Don't offer him any more."

Nandon smiled back at her. "I know. Have faith, this will go down easily."

The bartender returned with a human with greasy black hair and a devious smile. "This is Mangels. He sells ships to anyone who wants them so long as they can pay."

Mangels whipped out an electronic pad from his coat and pulled off the pad's electronic accompanying pen with his hand and held them at a ready position, as though ready to make a transaction. "What do you need?"

"Something fast and cheap. Something that more than one person can travel in," Rinda said quickly, if not somewhat untrustingly.

"Uh huh," Mangels nodded contemplatively. He tapped and twirled his pen quickly for several seconds. "Anything else?" He asked them.

"Not that I know of," Rinda said looking over to Nandon with a look that let Nandon know that she did not trust Mangels.

"Then I have the perfect ship," Mangels nodded, pressing a few more buttons, replacing the electronic pen, and stuffing the pad back into his pocket. "It's an old K-Wing. We've been trying to get rid of her for ages. I even threw a hyperdrive into it a few years back 'cuz it wasn't selling. If you'll just follow me, please?" Mangels turned on his heel and left the bar without another word, the bartender returned to the bar, and Rinda and Nandon hastily followed after Mangels.

"How much do you think this is going to cost?" Nandon asked Mangels, walking briskly to keep up.

"Don't worry about the price just yet," Mangels said seriously. "You should see it and then we'll strike a deal. Sound good?"

Nandon shot a look at Rinda, who understood. "Sounds very reasonable, yes." Nandon said, nodding to Rinda in mutual comprehension of the situation.

They walked in silence to the nearby spaceport. Mangels led them to hangar D-10 and pressed his hand on the door pad, unlocking it with a handprint identification system. He stepped inside and ushered them in with a wave of his hand.

Nandon stepped in, head turned to the large K-Wing. He glanced at the K-Wing and nodded in satisfaction. "I like it. This could work. What do you think Rinda?"

"I like it," She nodded, impressed. "It's big enough for a few people and it's Republic build so it sounds fast enough certainly, and it's got a hyperdrive, which was one of the big turnoffs from its initial release as a refit for the Galactic Civil War era Y-Wing. It can get you in for a good close up attack if I remember my fighters properly. It'll do."

"How much?" Nandon turned around to face Mangels, but only saw the barrel of a blaster pointed about three inches away from his nose.

"Everything you got, and then some, Jedi," Mangels smiled as twenty other men with blaster rifles jumped from the shadows and from behind the barrels around the hangar bay.

"If you know we're Jedi," Rinda put up her hands slowly, mockingly. "Then you must know that you all don't stand a chance against us."

"I beg to differ," Mangels smirked, still thinking he was in control of the situation.

"You can stop this," Nandon said, looking around and putting his hands up like Rinda. "You can still walk away. Just tell us how much you want for this, and we'll pay you and be on our way."

"I wouldn't part with this for all the credits in the galaxy," Mangels said patronizingly. "She's too close to my heart; I could never give her up after all the work I've put into her."

"He's not kidding," Rinda said to Mangels, patronizing him, trying to make him understand that now was not the time to play games.

"You think I don't know that?" Mangels smiled. "Truth is your Order is gone. The next Emperor, Darth Stendalus, wiped out the Jedi Academy on Mon Calamari this morning. Every news report is calling it the biggest massacre of Jedi since the Sith Purge and the rise of the Galactic Empire over a hundred and fifty years ago. Don't think I know what this means. You can't take all of us out, and me and my crew will be rewarded beyond belief when I bring your heads to Darth Stendalus." Mangels squeezed his index finger, savoring his moment of complete and total victory over the Jedi.

Nandon sped up, the world slowing down around him and moved his body to the right, rolling on the ground and pulling out his lightsaber as Mangels' shot flew past him. Nandon clicked on his lightsaber and rolled to his feet, holding his lightsaber ready as Mangels turned to point his blaster at Nandon. He fired again and Nandon deflected the shot across the room, where it bounced off the K-Wing and fizzled into the wall on the other side of the hangar. Mangels opened fire and Nandon blocked each and every shot, reflecting them all over the room. Mangels sprinted backwards, chancing a glance over to his "crew." Nandon looked over for a second and watched as Rinda excelled in blocking each and every shot from the plethora of rifle shots towards her, saber moving faster than any other Nandon had ever seen, aside from Cade's. Nandon sliced across the top of Mangel's blaster and jumped back, flipping to join Rinda and hearing Mangel's blaster's power cell overload with a small explosion, sending scraps of metal flying away from Mangel's gun.

Nandon landed next to Rinda and helped her in deflecting the shots from the blaster rifles.

"What took you so long?" Rinda half shouted above the blaster sounds. "I thought you weren't going to show up!"

"I'd never leave you," Nandon shouted, humored. She always had to play the guilt game with him. They ran forward, still reflecting the shots, and sent the rest of the crew sprinting for their lives. Nandon pulled five of the sprinters, who foolishly turned their backs to him, towards him with the Force, making sure to pull their weapons out of their hands, and slicing their weapons as they passed; each of the five landed with a crack on their backs, heads falling to the hard ground of the hanger deck and knocking them unconscious.

Rinda and Nandon sprinted after those they could and cut each one down in haste, grazing them just enough to make them pass out, but not enough to kill them.

Breathing slightly harder than normal, Nandon turned to Rinda and smiled, completely satisfied with their work. "I'll go pay for this. You fire her up."

Rinda nodded and jumped up to the K-Wing's pit as Nandon walked calmly up to Mangels and knelt by Mangels' fallen body.

Mangels wheezed heavily and pulled back his hand from his stomach, revealing a large shard of blaster stuck in his gut, bleeding freely across the hangar floor.

"You lose, Jedi," Mangels winced in Pyrrhic victory. "You killed me."

Nandon did not answer, but instead grabbed Mangels' hand with his own. "Grasp my hand," he warned and used his other to levitate the piece of shrapnel out of Mangels' stomach with the Force. He flung it away and over his shoulder before placing his hand back and healing Mangels' stomach wound with his hand. "I wouldn't even let my worst enemy die. That's why you shouldn't join Stendalus. He won't care." Nandon dropped a sack of twenty thousand credits onto Mangels' healed wound. "I told you I'd pay you." He turned around and jumped up to the K-Wing's pit and sat down next to Rinda as the engines roared to life. "I think we've found our new ship." He smiled.

_Lekku's _reminded Master Lectris of _The Bleiles_. He looked around and saw dancing Twi'lek on poles strategically located around the cantina and the circular bar at the center had several poles for dancing Twi'lek. Rubes huffed and sat down at the bar without making contact with anyone, making sure to pick the seat furthest away from any of the dancing members of her species and not lifting her head to look at anything. Master Lectris and Nandon sat down on either side of her, both unsure what to do.

"I have Sith contact in the back," the Rodian whispered to them. "They seem to be watching for something significant. They're looking at us."

"We understand," Master Lectris looked around the bar, watching as each of the different colors of Twi'leks danced under colors complementing and changing around them. Most had congregated around the singular blue Twi'lek dancing. A pair of greens danced on top of the bar, playing off of each other sensually, and a red in black danced in the back for the entertainment of the Sith, but they paid little attention to her and had, as the Rodian had said, focused entirely on Master Lectris, Taric, Rubes, and the Rodian.

"What'll it be?" Asked the yellow female Twi'lek bartendress, clad in a low cut top and short briefs, revealing her midriff in its entirety.

"Ruby Bleiles," Rubes said, looking up and then freezing in contempt.

The bartendress stared at her curiously, as though wondering what Rubes could possibly find offensive. "And for you three gentlemen?"

"Corellian ale," Master Lectris said, still aware that the Sith were watching them all.

"Same," Taric raised his hand, not taking his eyes off Rubes, increasingly concerned with her mindset.

"The usual, Sceda," The Rodian nodded. "And put it on my tab."

The bartendress nodded, left, and returned a few minutes later with their four drinks. She walked back to deal with her other clients. Rubes put her head on her left hand and picked up her drink with her right preparing to imbibe her troubles away.

Someone bumped into her from behind, and she spilled her drink all over her robes, letting the glass fall and shatter on the ground. She whirled around to face the perpetrator.

"Sorry," the man said drunkenly as he stood up from where he had stumbled. He looked up at Rubes and her dripping wet robes and perked up. "Alright!" He smiled, as though he had sobered up slightly and was ready for another round. "Who announced the s were getting wet now? Pretty if you ask me!"

Rubes slugged the man across the face, sending him spiraling to the ground.

"What in the hell was that for?" The man stood up, spitting blood and wiping his mouth. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Rubes, don't!" Taric shouted.

But it was too late. Rubes flew into a rage and picked the man up by the seat of his pants and whirled around, throwing him across the bar, spilling drinks and tripping the Twi'lek s who fell down onto the men in the stools, and they, in turn, fell to the ground. The Twi'lek dancers and patrons all stood up to see what had happened, those who had seen it clenched their fists, ready to fight the person who interrupted their fun.

"Finally," Rubes said in relief as she stepped back into an aggressive stance.


	12. Episode II Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I don't own Star Wars… No way, no how… And… for the record, because I have the right to free speech, I will say that that kinda hurts… It sucks I can't ever do anything with this, and it's my favorite…

**Chapter 4****  
****The Offer**

Master Lectris turned to the Rodian just as the Rodian vaulted over the bar, ready to hide from the ensuing brawl. "Some informant. Can't even handle a bar fight." He turned to Taric, who stood almost in indecision, wondering whether he should join Rubes and fight or join the Rodian in seeking security behind the refuge of the bar.

Master Lectris looked back at Rubes. She needed to do this, to show everyone that she was serious, that she wouldn't handle insufferable people who had nothing better to do with their lives.

The drunk whom Rubes had thrown across the bar stood up, brushing shards of glass out of his hair and off his tunic and wiping the smears and wetness of each of the drinker's drinks off his face. He snarled in anger. Someone behind him pulled out a blaster pistol and pointed it at Rubes, growling in frustration at the state of his clothes. The drunk held out a hand and lowered the man's weapon.

"No. We have to do this right. We can't kill her. We have to show this Twi'lek her place," the drunk grinned in pride. "Usually we don't get to touch 'em, but imagine how good this one's gonna feel after all these times of sitting in here, watching."

The man with the blaster chuckled, leading the other men to lick their lips and smirk in thirst for real flesh. The drunk yelled and charged at Rubes, sprinting to catch her, one arm pulled back in a fist prepared for a punch. Master Lectris looked back at Rubes, wondering how she would respond. Rubes smirked and sidestepped the man just as he lunged at her, throwing his whole body weight behind his single punch. She held out her leg and he tripped flying headlong past her and sliding slightly along the nice oaken wood floor of the cantina. The rest of the men, seeing how one drunk's blind rage had not done anything bristled, prepared to attack in greater numbers.

Master Lectris looked over to the Sith sitting in the back corner, wondering how they this would let this play out. Surprisingly, they sat watching, the red Twi'lek who had been dancing with them sat on her pedestal, now cloaked in a black robe. "Interesting," Master Lectris muttered under his breath.

"What's interesting?" Taric asked, sill riveted on the men who began whispering to one another in preparation for a new strike.

"Look at the Sith," Master Lectris whispered. "They're not moving."

Four other men charged Rubes this time, staggered for a rapid set of attacks.

"Shouldn't we help her?" Taric asked, backing up slightly.

"Let her blow this off," Master Lectris said, smiling slightly. "I wanna see how this will go. I wonder if she'll really be able to take them all on, and with no saber."

"No saber?" Taric asked as Rubes grabbed the first man's shirt and flipped him over her by rolling on her back and kicking him towards the drunk one.

"No," Master Lectris nodded, wincing slightly as Rubes kicked off the ground from her back to her hands and pounced forward with her feet, kicking the next attacker in the chest and landing on his chest as he fell down. "If she does, it'll turn lethal, and she doesn't want that"

Taric nodded as Rubes blocked the next man's punch and gave him a swift uppercut to the jaw, falling him backwards. The fourth man sidestepped to dodge the other man's fall and Rubes lunged forward and grabbed him, whipping him around and throwing him into the bar, where he hit his back on the bottles of drinks in glass counters behind the bar, shattering them all and falling to the ground.

The rest of the men and female Twi'lek dancers charged her all at once.

"And that, Taric," Master Lectris chuckled slightly as the angry cantina patrons approached as fast as they could. "Is our cue." He placed a hand on the wide bar and vaulted over it, landing next to the cowering Rodian and on top of the man whom Rubes had thrown over the bar. Taric followed next to him, yelping slightly as Rubes threw the first unfortunate assaulter into the bar, landing with a crunch in the solid metal of the bar.

Master Lectris chanced a glance up over the bar's countertop, watching Rubes' improvisation. Part of what made her an excellent fighter was her ability to improvise, as he learned from the little he saw in her duel with Taric. She grabbed the next one with the Force and pulled her towards him, grabbing his head, bashing his face into her knee, and throwing him back into the crowd, his nose bleeding freely as he toppled the people in his flight path.

The next one to charge tried to tackle and grab her, using the moon's gravity to do his dirty work. Rubes jumped over him and landed on his head, smashing his face into the ground as she forced it down, using gravity to her advantage. Because this took so much time, however, Rubes had to duck her next victim's swipe at her. She grabbed his hand and flipped him over into the ground, knocking the air out of him.

The two Twi'lek twins attacked her next, the first grabbing the second's hand as the second jumped in to kick Rubes in the chest. Rubes snatched the second's leg and whipped it over her head, dragging the first's as she flung them and giving the first complete and total access to kick Rubes in the chin, flipping out of her kick and landing on her feet while knocking Rubes to the ground and onto the man who had fallen. Rubes tried to jump back onto her hands again, but as she jumped forward to kick the first Twi'lek, the second, who had slid to a stop behind Rubes, kicked Rubes in the back, sending her too high, and giving the first the ability to punch Rubes across the face as Rubes leapt to her feet, catching Rubes off balance and sending her rolling to the ground.

"You two aren't helping!" Rubes shouted to them, getting to her hands and knees, spitting out blood.

The first Twi'lek smiled. "But we like-"

"What we do," the second finished. "We even took a-"

"Self-defense class offered through the bar," the first nodded proudly. "And finally-"

"It comes in handy!" The second beamed with the same sense of pride as her twin.

"Did they ever teach you how to deal with someone like me, thought?" Rubes smirked and pulled the two towards her with the Force and her two hands.

Caught entirely off guard, the two Twi'lek twins flew forward towards Rubes. Rubes smiled and nodded her head in victory and as the first Twi'lek approached her faster than the second, Rubes spun and kicked the Twi'lek across the face and she flew into her twin, landing in the wall on the other side of the Cantina.

"Some Nexu fight," one of the remaining five men groaned, slightly upset.

"You want a Nexu fight?" Rubes asked him, fed up with the men's quips. "I'll give you a Nexu fight. Get over here."

"Why don't you bring the party to us?" The man retorted, encouraged by the catcalls form his fellow attendees.

"Your wish…" Rubes said as she ran towards the scumbags ahead of her.

She flipped in the air towards them and landed in the center of their circle, attacking each one as they presented themselves. One tried to kick high and into her face, but she ducked backwards and grabbed a barstool and swung it with all her strength at the outstretched leg, shattering it on contact. The man cried out in pain as he collapsed onto the ground. Rubes kicked him and he tripped up the man behind him as they both slid across the floor. Rubes threw the chair at the third, and he caught it, prepared to use her own weapon against her. Rubes yanked the chair backwards, and the man's grip on the chair was so tight that it actually dragged him backwards and he landed on the ground with a thunk unconscious. Rubes grabbed the second to last one by the leg and flung him down, beating him into the ground and subsequently unconscious. The last one tried to run, but Rubes jumped over and in front of him, grabbing him around the neck and punching him in the chest multiple times before twirling him around, grabbing the back of his head, and bashing his face into the bar counter.

Rubes sighed in satisfaction at the groaning and moaning _Lekku's _clients around her. "Nothing like a good old fashioned fight to get the aggression out."

Someone in the back clapped slowly and stood up. Master Lectris stood up slowly and jumped over the counter to join Rubes. One of the hooded Sith in the back had stood up and was walking towards them, followed by the other four in black. "That was fantastic. I have never before seen someone win such a fight single handedly and without a weapon. That was most impressive," the Sith finished, pulling out a long green finger with a curved nail on the end. He took off his hood as Taric and the Rodian stood up behind the bar and climbed over it to join Rubes and Master Lectris revealing a tight green face and an entirely bald head, with the exception of a black ponytail flowing from the back of his head.

"You're a Falleen?" Rubes asked in disbelief. "I didn't realize you still existed."

"We're around," The Falleen nodded, waving off his appearance as an everyday occurrence. "But we're not here to talk about me and my secretive species. We're here to talk about you and how you might be interested in a meeting we're having tonight."

"Who's we?" Taric asked suspiciously, eyeing the Falleen untrustworthily.

The Falleen bowed his head. "Apologies. My name is Darth Xergen, and I'm a representative for Kleega the Hutt, crime lord of Nar Shaddaa. We are searching for potential Sith to join a worthy cause, and, unless I'm very much mistaken, I did sense great power in you when you were fighting just now."

The Sith behind Darth Xergen murmured in agreement.

Darth Xergen silenced them with his hand, eyes closed in almost annoyance. "We were wondering if you would care to attend a meeting with us tonight at an undisclosed location." Darth Xergen withdrew a small metal screen from his robes that could easily fit in his hand and handed it to Rubes. "Later tonight, that will light up with a location to go to for this meeting. Don't miss it. You'd be a valuable asset to our team."

With a whisk of his hand, Darth Xergen beckoned his Sith out of Lekku's and they stepped over the groaning _Lekku's _clients on the ground who were still suffering from the injuries Rubes inflicted on them.

Rubes looked at the metal screen for a minute and handed it to Master Lectris; he examined it for several seconds and passed it to Taric. Taric looked at it for a few seconds and handed it back to Master Lectris. "What now?" He asked.

"We wait for them to tell us where to go," Master Lectris said as he placed the screen back into his robes. "But for now, we should probably get out of here. How far away is our hotel?" Master Lectris asked the Rodian.

"Not far enough," the Rodian grumbled. "I've probably blown my cover after this mess. Come on," he sighed, a note of resolve in his voice. "I'll take you."

They walked outside, where people still congregated around the Twi'leks and in groups. Rubes smirked, and before anyone had even noticed she had left their group, she walked up to the largest of the groups.

"Rubes!" Master Lectris shouted, running towards her and not wanting another fight.

But she didn't listen to him and instead began talking to them incredibly fast and with a note of bubbly happiness in her voice with a tiny pinch of tipsy. "Oh my goodness, you guys," Rubes said, obviously very pleased with herself. "You won't believe what just happened in there! This blue Twi'lek walked in and said free drinks for the next hour! You should get in there!"

Without a second's hesitation, they all sprinted towards the bar and ran inside, clambering over each other to get in.

"Disgusting," she shook her head as the last entered.

"Rubes," Master Lectris put his arm around her shoulder. "I think you've had enough for the day."

She nodded and walked with him all the way to the hotel room. Master Lectris didn't pay much attention, however. His mind was still stuck on the Falleen, Master Xergen. It was true, Falleen were incredibly rare throughout the galaxy. How strange that one would be a Sith on Nar Shaddaa and under the employ of a Hutt. He had only ever seen two Falleen in his life, one just a minute and a half ago, and the other on Coruscant with Rinda.

"What have you heard about Darth Stendalus?" Rinda asked the screen, seated the copilot's chair of their K-Wing, the newly named _Zenst_, as they approached a low orbit around Coruscant. Nandon guided the ship as they approached the planet wide city, chancing glances over to the incredibly young Falleen on the screen when he could.

"Not much more than two Jedis, I'm sure," the Falleen said. "My master is just the representative of Nal Hutta to the Republic. I'm quite sure I don't know much of anything beyond that."

Rinda protested. "But we have it on good authority that your master does have contacts throughout the Republic that would know his location or at least where he has been. No one can just be off the map for years and then crop back up without someone knowing. He had to get those weapons from somewhere, and word in the galaxy is that your boss has ties to most weapon exchanges around the galaxy."

"I will have you know that my boss is a legitimate business man," the Falleen said. "He would have nothing to do with smuggling or weapons caches. He's above all that."

"Look, can we just have a word with him?" Nandon asked, impatient as he dodged a speeder flying off planet, sending the space around him spinning slightly. "Consider it a personal favor to the Jedi Order."

The Falleen scratched his chin. "I think that can be arranged. Meet me in the Nal Hutta office of the Capitol. I'll be waiting for you."

Master Lectris steered Rubes to the bed and helped her onto it. She threw off her black robes and lied down, asleep within seconds.

Master Lectris watched her as Taric slipped off his own black robes. "What do you make of this whole thing?"

"I'm not sure," Master Lectris said, still looking at Rubes. "After what I've just seen I'm glad we have Rubes on our side and not someone else's, but I don't exactly trust this Falleen. I've met one Falleen before and he stabbed me in the back."

"But you can't just judge all of the Falleen based on just one's actions," Taric said. "I mean, look at Rubes. We can't judge her just because her fellow Twi'leks enjoy taking off their clothes and dancing for money."

"True," Master Lectris nodded. "But there's something unsettling about this whole ordeal. What would make a Sith want to work for a Hutt? And a Falleen Sith for that matter? And while we're at it, what would make a Sith, with four other Sith at his disposal, follow after the greedy Hutt crime lord of Nar Shaddaa?"

The Rodian, who had stayed quiet from his shock at the bar fight spoke up. "Because the Hutt has something on him?"

"I'm not entirely sure," Master Lectris rubbed his chin. "What can you tell me about Kleega the Hutt?"

"He controls Sith?" The Rodian asked. "I don't know much about him. No one does, except for those who work directly for him. I know that he has a couple of Sith under his control, but that's about it."

"What can you tell me about the Falleen, Darth Xengan?"

"I don't know anything about him," the Rodian said. "I'm as in the dark as you are. I didn't even know there were Falleen on any planet except for Falleen itself."

"Why?" Taric asked Master Lectris. "What makes the Falleen so special? I know they're rare, but why do you care so much? What makes this Falleen so special? Is it that he's a Jedi? I know that'd be scary. Falleen already have attraction powers beyond what Jedi Falleen would have. What could possibly be so special about this Fallen that you can't take your mind off of it."

"Because I think that this is the same exact Falleen who attacked me just over ten years ago during the rise of Darth Stendalus, and, if a Falleen is working for a Hutt, then there must be something bigger than that Hutt going on here."


	13. Episode II Chapter 5

Disclaimer: No. Don't own Star Wars, but I own this whole idea... 'Cept the funny trick. I stole that one from Joss Whedon.

**Chapter 5****  
****Finished**

Something in Master Lectris's robes buzzed. It wouldn't stop. No matter what he did. It still wanted to wake him up. Why wouldn't it just stop? He turned over and it buzzed harder against his chest. Frustrated, he flipped over and grasped the buzzing over his heart and ripped it out of his robes, holding it in front of his eyes.

The screen read: _Hutt Towers, Main ballroom, Twenty minutes_.

Master Lectris watched the screen for a second trying to understand what he was reading. Why twenty minutes? That was an awfully short span of time.

"Everybody up!" He shouted, causing Rubes to startle on the bed next to him.

"Whazza matter?" She asked, sound muffled into her pillow.

Master Lectris didn't pay any attention to her but turned to the Rodian, who stood up from his spot on the ground and putting down the latest copy of Nal Hutta's Newspaper "The Daily Opportunity." "How long will it take to get to Hutt Towers?" Master Lectris asked him, rather impatient and slightly distraught over their twenty-minute window.

"Twenty minutes, give or take a few," the Rodian shrugged. "Why?"

Master Lectris didn't answer him but turned back to Rubes and Taric, both asleep on their bed. "Come on you two," he said increasingly more frantic and agitated. "We have a meeting with Kleega in twenty minutes and the place is just that far away. We have to go now."

"What? I'm up! I'm up!" Taric bolted up, looking ready to go, but speaking as though he was trying to convince himself that he really was awake and ready to go.

"Rubes, let's move!" Master Lectris shouted, losing his patience. "We can sleep when we know what's going on."

"But I just beat the crap out of a bunch of perverted criminals," Rubes complained, pulling her pillow over her head. "I think I deserve some rest."

"You got an hour," Master Lectris pleaded. "And that needs to be enough for now."

"Five minutes," Rubes pleaded with finality, telling him he was going to negotiate her to anything less.

"Rubes, if I could let you sleep I would, but the whole reason they invited us is because of your bar room brawl. Let's go."

"Five!" Rubes shouted in frustration.

Master Lectris sighed and lifted his hand, picking up Rubes with the Force, opening the door, and levitating her out of the room, dropping her on the floor of their level's lobby.

"Fine," She scowled and stood up. "Where's my robes?"

The Rodian exited their room with their black robes in his hands. He tossed each of them a set. "I'll take you to Hutt Towers but I can't take you to the meeting or I'll blow my cover. We need to go now." He pulled out a comlink and muttered something into it and then put it back in his pocket. "I got us a speeder. They should get us there just on time."

They took the elevator to the bottom floor and walked across the lobby briskly and exited the lobby just as a sleek black speeder hovered to a stop in front of the main doors.

"Where to?" the Sullustan speeder pilot asked as they jumped in.

"Hutt Towers," Master Lectris said simply. "A hundred credits if you can get us there in fifteen minutes."

"Are you kidding? I'll do it in twelve!" The Sullustan smiled and pulled out of the hotel's speed way and into the airspace over Nar Shaddaa, accelerating and weaving through other speeders and ships flying around the area. Master Lectris did not mind the speed per say, but he wished the Sullustan would fly a little more carefully.

Regardless of his recklessness, however, and true to his word, the Sullustan stopped in front of the speedway to Hutt Towers within twelve minutes.

"That'll be thirty credits plus the hundred for the speed factor," the Sullustan tipped his hat to Master Lectris as he passed the Sullustan a hundred and thirty credits.

"This is where I leave you," the Rodian looked around as Master Lectris, Taric, and Rubes stepped out of the speeder. "I can't risk going in there and being involved in all this Jedi stuff more than I already am. Enjoy your time." And before they could protest the Rodian tossed a few credits into the front seat and slammed the door; the speeder sped off and away the instant the door shut.

They stood for a second in mild shock. Master Lectris looked to the clock over the entrance to Hutt Towers. They had only two minutes.

"Let's go," he said simply and ran into the Towers, Taric and Rubes fast behind him.

They followed the signs to the ballroom and when they came within eyesight of it slowed to a walk and hid their hard breathing as best they could. They took a deep breath and exhaled separately. Resolutely, Master Lectris sighed and pushed the door pad.

"Welcome," the Falleen said, ushering Nandon and Rinda into his office and offering them a seat in front of his desk. They took their seats and he walked around and sat in his chair. "Would you care for a drink?" He offered them, holding up glasses for the two of them in one hand and a large bottle of blue liquid in the other. "I managed to procure some rare Corucusian Wine from Pydyr and I must say that it is quite a delight of a drink. Would you care for some? I'm sure you won't be disappointed."

"No thank you," Rinda said politely; the Falleen shrugged and put their glasses away and one for poured, recapping the bottle and putting the bottle back in his desk. "We just wanted to know if your boss has heard anything about the location of Darth Stendalus. Any information you give us will be greatly appreciated and the Jedi Order would be inclined to do you a favor in the near future. Where is your boss, anyways?"

The Falleen sighed. "I apologize. Glenkus, I'm afraid, had personal business to attend to and could not meet with you. He said that he would not miss out on an opportunity to meet with the Jedi Order, or what was left of it. He did, however, defer all of his information to me so that I might better learn the art of negotiations that he knows so well. Truth is, my boss doesn't know anything about the location of Darth Stendalus. It's one of the most closely guarded secrets in the galaxy right now, and anyone who does know is so fed up with the Republic and the Jedi Order that I'm very much afraid they don't want to say anything about his location."

"So you know nothing?" Nandon asked, slightly disheartened.

"Not exactly," the Falleen scratched his chin with his long, razor like nails and stood up, walking behind his chair and staring out the large sheet glass window behind his desk. "You see, I said that we do not know his location, not that we do not know his plans. It turns out that Darth Stendalus is planning a mass breakout of the prisons in the spice mines of Kessel. We don't know when this will be, but we do know that it will happen."

"You can't give us anything more than that?" Rinda asked him, disappointed.

"I'm afraid not," the Falleen sighed and shrugged.

"So what do we do? Just sit and wait for Darth Stendalus to raid the Spice Mines of Kessel? We have no idea when it will happen! What good does that do us?"

The Falleen held up his hand. "If my boss did not think that you would not profit from this information he would not have given it to you. We have, however, noticed something significant happening recently. It seems Stendalus has indeed been amassing Sith for his cause. We have reason to believe, therefore, that he would not assault the heavily guarded Spice Mines of Kessel if he did not think he could succeed. Of course, that means that you do indeed have some time before he does attack them."

Rinda eyed him suspiciously and grabbed Nandon's hand and squeezed it. "And, when you do find out when this attack will be, will you tell us?"

The Falleen smirked and set down the glass on his desk. "You have my word."

Rinda nodded and pulled on Nandon's hand, leaping up and over the desk as the Falleen picked up a blaster and aimed it at them. Rinda, with the arm that she wasn't holding Nandon's hand, pushed the blaster out of his hands, covered her face wither her arm, and jumped through the office's huge glass window.

They fell out of the building and down the huge drop, windows passing quickly.

"What the hell was that?" Nandon shouted as he flew next to Rinda, her eyes focused on the ground far below and the fast approaching speeding cars on their speedway below.

"He wanted us to leave," Rinda explained simply, keeping her eyes focused on the ground. "And he didn't want anyone to know we came to see him. That, and he was going to pull a blaster on us."

"But how did you know all that?" Nandon shouted back, growing increasingly more nervous as they shot downwards.

"He told me through his pheromones," Rinda explained, eyes still focused on the ground and oddly glazed. "That's what the Falleen can do. They have this ability to excrete a pheromone that can tell you how to do something, like how to dodge these speeders and ships."

"Rinda!" Nandon shouted, wind whipping past his hair and eyes watering as they plunged down right into the thick of the speedway. Speeders whizzed by them and ships blared and swerved out of their way. Rinda cut into a spin and twirl for a second until they broke out of the speedway.

"Nandon!" She shouted looking over at him and floundering out of the bullet position she had been in until they had broken through the line of speeders, the glaze gone from her eyes. "Nandon! What's going on? Where are we? What happened to the Falleen?"

Nandon reached out and grabbed Rinda by the hand and held her close. "It's okay, we'll get out of this, somehow." He looked down as they rapidly approached another speedway. "Rinda, look and see if you can see a good ship for us to land on!"

Rinda looked to one side. "There! Fast approaching! I see a transport ship. It's large and we can land on it."

"We're not going to land on it," Nandon shouted. "We need to loop around it."

"Why?"

"Terminal velocity! If we land on it we'll make a nice smear all over the roof. We're going to need to use the Force to grab onto it as we fly past it and loop back up over it and onto the roof. It should slow us down enough."

"But-"

"There's no time!" Nandon shouted. "Just grab on to me!" She grabbed onto his front, wrapping her arms around his neck and stared into his eyes, as she did when they were alone and they kissed quickly. "Hang on," He whispered and reached out his hand, grabbing onto the transport ship's hardtop with the Force and flew past it. Nandon pulled up on the invisible tether and whipped around the ship, feeling them decelerate vertically but accelerate horizontally as it pulled them under the ship and over into the opposing lane of the speedway's traffic before pulling them onto the top and bouncing them roughly backwards along the top a few feet until they slid to a stop, grabbing onto one of the rear fins.

Nandon breathed heavily and looked over to Rinda, smiling even though his heart would not stop beating as fast as it could. Without even thinking about what he was saying, he asked what had been on his mind since the destruction of the Academy on Mon Calamari. "Do you want to get married?"

Rinda smiled, blushing with pride. "I thought you'd never ask." She kissed him again and again, putting a single ray of happiness and hope in the period of death and dismay.

The Hutt Tower's ballroom hall had a huge table in the middle, with several groups of Sith seated around it, divided by several chairs between them. Different species populated the different groups from Zabrac to Twi'lek to Rodians to Chagrian to Anzat and a single Balosar. At the far end sat a Hutt, presumably Kleega and beside him stood Darth Xergen. The four other Sith they had seen at the bar stood at strategic points around the table, one arm on a hip, prepared to draw a saber at a second's notice.

"Ah, you must be the group Darth Xergen here saw in _Lekku's_ just an hour or so ago. He said you'd be here, and here you are," the Hutt said in his thick, rough voice, percolated with signature groans and gargles.

"Hey look," Rubes said under her breath. "A Hutt learned basic. Who'd a thunk it?"

Master Lectris hushed her with a hiss and then turned back. "Yes. That was us. May we sit down?"

"Of course," Kleega said generously. "I'm not without a desire for comfort."

Master Lectris, Rubes, and Taric sat down in the chairs at the end of the table. Rubes kicked her feet up onto the table. Taric shot a glance at her. She flashed a glare back but didn't put her feet down. Master Lectris said nothing; Rubes had experience in dealing with the Sith and therefore knew how to behave.

"Now, as each of you, I'm sure, is aware, you are all Sith," Kleega began. "What does this mean for you? Well, I'm a man of business, so I'm just going to tell you what I mean. I would like for you all to come and work for me."

The Sith broke out into peals of protest. A Nautolan stood up among the babble and spoke loudly. "And why would we come and work for a Hutt like yourself?"

"Because if you want the Sith to survive then you will need to work with other Sith throughout the galaxy. I have already made my own first small group of Sith." Kleega gestured around the room. "And we control this little moon. The Sith are fractured and splintered throughout the galaxy, without any particular group able to overpower another. The largest group in our lifetime served under Darth Stendalus, but since him they've all broken apart, each group is trying to vie for power like a common gang. The Sith are not meant to function like common gangs. They are a force to be reckoned with, something so powerful that even the Jedi could not stop them. If things keep proceeding as they have then the Sith will get nowhere and someday in the future you will all be dead."

The Nautolan glared at Kleega. "How about I just take your Sith and kill you?"

"My naïve Nautolan friend," Kleega said patronizingly. "I'd like to see you try."

The Nautolan threw out his hand, lightning arcing down the table towards Kleega, but it stopped and phased out before it could reach him. Kleega laughed, his entire body convulsing from the effort. After another minute, he stopped. "Xergen, if you will?"

Xergen sprinted forward, drawing out his lightsaber and igniting it, the red streaking along the ground. The Nautolan withdrew his lightsaber and brought it up to strike. Xergen smiled and continued charging. The Nautolan swayed slightly and dropped his lightsaber. Xergen swung downwards as he ran by, slicing the Nautolan's green neck, the Nautolan's tentacles wiggling unnaturally fast as the head rolled sideways and onto the table, a look of ecstasy on his face.

Xergen sheathed his saber and clipped it back on his belt, returning, without a word, to his spot next to Kleega. Kleega pulled out an Ysalimari from the folds of his fat.

"Every non Sith's secret weapon. You can't touch me and Darth Xergen is paid far too well to betray me, he is loyal more than you can know. So," he turned back to face the rest of the table. "Any questions before you join my 'little club?'"

None of the Sith said anything, but instead exchanged concerned, worried looks. Kleega was blackmailing them into working for him and they couldn't do anything about it.

"Good," Kleega said pleasantly. "Now, my Sith will show you to your rooms, where you will stay until we can determine where would be the best place to place you in my fledgling empire."

The Sith stationed around the room all gripped their sabers audibly, ready to escort the different groups of Sith to their rooms in Hutt Towers.

Master Lectris turned to both of them quickly. "I need you two to get off this moon as soon as you can. It's not safe here."

"Why? What about you?" Taric asked, concerned, standing up slowly to delay having the Sith pull him out of the room.

"I'll be fine, but you have to bring some reinforcements. Reinforcements or no, we need to take Kleega out as soon as possible. There's no telling how many Sith he has under his control, and if he keeps going like this there's no telling how many he'll come up with."

"Then we all come back to the Academy and we all tell the Council," Rubes said.

"No, I have to do this," Master Lectris insisted.

"No, you don't. You can do this when you have backup and you won't get killed," Rubes said looking to Taric for encouragement.

Master Lectris sighed. "Fair enough. We get out of here as soon as possible, when the opportunity presents itself."

Their Sith, Darth Xergen, as luck would have it, kept his hand on his saber as they all walked towards the doors of the ballroom, under guard. Master Lectris fell back to stand near Darth Xergen. They approached the lobby and the elevators towards the back.

Unsure about how to tell Rubes or Taric what was going on, Master Lectris elbowed Darth Xergen in the neck and grabbed him by the front of his robes, flipping Xergen over his back and throwing him down to the ground.

"Let's go!" Master Lectris shouted to Taric and Rubes.

The rest of the Sith followed them around to the speed way in front of the Towers. "Thanks man! You have no idea what this means to us!"

"Just go, and don't follow us!" Master Lectris shouted as he skidded to a stop in front of a small speeder, reached in and pulled out the driver, throwing him onto the ground in front of the speeder. "Sorry about this! Stop by the spaceport nearest to _Lekku's_ bar to get it back! Taric! You drive!" He shouted to Taric. "Do you remember how to get to the spaceport?" He asked Rubes as she dove into the speeder after Taric.

"Sort of," she said as Taric pushed the speeder into gear.

"Go Taric!" Master Lectris shouted, jumping into the back of the speeder and slamming the door behind him.

Taric pulled back on the speeder's console and it shot forward and into the air, pushing Master Lectris back into his seat.

"Hard left!" Rubes shouted to him.

Taric peeled the speeder left and pelted forward. Master Lectris turned around to watch out of the back of the speeder. Taric kept accelerating the speeder, swerving around, above, and below the speeders traveling through the city.

Unfortunately, two speeders approached them from behind.

"Step on it Taric!" Master Lectris shouted, his voice full of anxiety. "We're being followed!"

"Working on it!" Taric shouted back, flipping their speeder sideways to avoid one of the transports flying across one of the skyways.

The speeders behind Master Lectris opened fire on them, rocking their speeder with bolts of green. Taric flicked a few switches and rolled to avoid their fire.

"Go down!" Rubes shouted.

"Why?"

"So we can lose them! Just do it!" Rubes shouted.

Taric peeled downwards, flying down and into the buildings beneath them. The two speeders behind them kept on them, still firing when they had a clear shot. Taric managed to dodge most of the shots, but still seemed to have trouble keeping them aloft through the buildings and over the sky bridges. After a few minutes, they passed _Lekku's _and the sign in front of it with the images of Twi'leks.

Rubes shouted directions to Taric, making Taric swerve left and right through the various buildings until they reached the airspace around the spaceport.

"There!" She shouted.

"I see it, but I don't see a place to land it!" Taric yelled back.

"Aim for the doors! We need to fly her into the spaceport itself!" Master Lectris kept his eyes on the pursuing speeders, who fired another green blast, hot on their wake.

The burst caught the speeder in the engine and sent it down faster than Taric had planned. He pulled upwards to compensate, trying to keep the speeder aloft. He managed to just barely land it on the speedway just in front of the spaceport, crashing between two other speeders and shattering the glass entry doors, sliding on the spaceport's floor, tail end on fire and shooting sparks from the friction on the floor.

"Bail!" Master Lectris shouted and dove out of the speeder, Rubes and Taric jumping out of their respective sides as the speeder slid forward, sparks flying and stopped at a statue of Kleega, crashing into it and rocking to a stop.

Master Lectris jumped up and ran over to Taric and helped him to his feet. "Let's go! We're almost there!"

Rubes, Taric, and Master Lectris sprinted for their docking bay, fully aware of the Sith on their tail. They skidded to a stop in front of their port, Master Lectris pulling out the key to their dock from his robes and sliding it into the lock. The door slid open and they sprinted inside, running for the fighter.

Master Lectris jumped into the cockpit and started the engines, flicking the switches and setting the navigation system for Yavin IV, ready to start the hyperdrive as soon as they had cleared atmo. He began programming the advanced computer system's autopilot system for the flight. Typically, he would have preferred to fly it manually, but given the intensity of the situation, he would rather the computer make the fast decisions. Taric leapt into the seat next to him and strapped in.

"Rubes! Get into the gunner's seat!" He yelled to Rubes and then turned to Taric. "Taric, I set the ship on auto-pilot all the way back to Yavin IV, so if anything happens to me…" He looked out to the dock's entryway.

Taric looked at him in protest. "What do you mean? What are you-"

"I have to go open the roof," Master Lectris explained and pointed up and leapt down from _Zenst _and sprinted towards the door and flicked a few switches opening the hangar's roof as the K-Wing's cockpit hatch began to close slowly.

"Master Lectris! Let's-"

Someone hit Master Lectris in the back of the head, sending him to the ground. Taric screamed and Master Lectris threw out his hands to catch himself, looking up to Taric as the cockpit's hatch closed with a sealing hiss.

"Go Taric," He pleaded, calling out with Force. "I'll be fine."

Darth Xergen grabbed Master Lectris by the hair and forced him to his knees. Master Lectris winced in pain as the Sith kneed him in the back. Still the K-Wing hadn't taken off.

"Go," Master Lectris pleaded, tears welling in his eyes.

The K-Wing emitted exhaust and several white Stormtroopers sprinted forward, blaster rifles ineffectively blazing and deflecting off the K-Wing.

A lightsaber ignited behind Master Lectris's head, and he felt the Sith's rage build up. Ahead of him, Taric's hands made imprints on the glass of the cockpit, tears streaming down his face. Behind him, farther away and in the gunner's seat, Rubes sat in shock, horrified at what she was seeing, her face full of an uncrying sadness.

Master Lectris heard Darth Xergen pull back his right arm, ready to strike.

"Here, I come, my love," Master Lectris whispered, embracing what was finally approaching. Images flew through his head, images of Cade, Taric, Sangreldor, Rubes, and, finally, Rinda. He smiled fleetingly and, as he watched the K-Wing levitate into the sky and as he heard the lightsaber swish downward, he whispered the single, solitary name of the person he so wished to see for ten long years.

"Rinda."


	14. Interlude

Disclaimer: I don't own Star Wars, but I own the story. W00t to me.

**Interlude  
Parents**

Siil rubbed her horns gently, sensually making sure they looked presentable before she pressed on the door pad to let her into the mess hall. She looked down to check the contrasting amber color of her dress and shawl, matching a perfect complement to her light red Togrutan skin. Appearances meant everything. She felt compelled to prove to these people that she was more than just base hunter. She twirled, making sure nothing fell off in case she had to jump up in a hurry; she sighed. Even a week and a half later, it still bothered her that she hadn't detected the Sith at the ceremony. Her instincts had told her something was wrong, but she had assumed that it had probably stemmed from her concern that Taric was progressing through the ranks of the Jedi quicker than she had anticipated. Now, it was only a matter of time before they sent her on a mission with him, and she couldn't handle that. Even more so she couldn't handle it now. Not since… It broke her heart just thinking about it. Taric didn't deserve that; nor did his new Twi'lek partner, Rubes, for that matter, but Rubes barely knew Master Lectris. Everyone at the Academy loved Master Lectris, but none studied under him. Only Taric had that honor.

Truth was, from what Siil could tell and what she heard, Taric was taking Master Lectris's death rather hard. It had been three days, and the biggest part the worm who had killed Master Lectris sent The Academy was Master Lectris's finger, on which a ring still stay fastened, bearing a crest from the Royal Council of Mon Calamari. Siil wondered why Master Lectris wore a betrothal band bequeathed only by the two consenting prime ministers of Mon Calamari, one from the Mon Calamari and one from the Quarren. Even the High Council of Mon Calamari could not permit such a holy marriage.

Masters Skywalker, Sangreldor, and Essez had all left promptly for Nar Shaddaa to try to recover Master Lectris's body. Taric had sprinted after them as they got on board Master Skywalker's _Mynock_, half-screaming to be taken along.

"And why the hell can't I go!" Taric shouted, pulling both Rubes and Graden forward as Masters Essez and Sangreldor, at the behest of Master Skywalker, walked up the _Mynock's _gangplank and into the ship. Siil wanted to take a step forward and help, but she didn't' want to intrude on Taric's tirade. Maybe if she knew him better she would. Instead, she stood in the front of the slowly growing crowd, watching anxiously, almost fearful of what might happen.

"Because, Taric," Master Skywalker said calmly, his eyes full of remorse. "You're too full of rage. I can't let you go because you can't handle this right now. Calm down, and take a few days off. Master Lectris wouldn't want this behavior from you; you know that."

Taric threw his two friends off his arms. "I want this. I need to do this. _You _know that. Let me come with you. I met the worm and I can get him to release Master Lectris's body. Face it, you need me for this."

"I'm afraid I can't take you, Taric. I stand by what I said before."

"Take me!" Taric threatened, and before Siil or anyone, including Master Skywalker, could react, Taric pulled out his lightsaber and clicked it on, pointing it upwards and towards Master Skywalker's chin. "Or you won't get off this moon."

Rubes, Siil, Graden, and several of the other Jedi whipped aside their robes and placed their hands on their lightsabers, prepared to defend Master Skywalker. Master Skywalker, however, put a hand up to stop them all. The tension lessened, but Rubes kept her hand on her saber.

"Is this really what you want Taric?" Master Skywalker said quietly, barely more than a whisper. "Do you really want to strike me down? Would that make it better? Because if it will help you, then I beg you to take my life in exchange for yours. I wish I could bring him back, Taric. Really, I do. More than anything I would like nothing more than for him to walk down that walkway behind me alive and well. He was like my brother and I'm bringing him back. You just have to have faith. But if you don't, then kill me, get on my ship and take it to Nar Shaddaa and have Master Sangreldor and Master Essez help you recover Master Lectris's body."

Shaking uncontrollably and tears in his eyes, Taric lowered his lightsaber, and with the sound of zipping energy his blue and green blade sheathed back into its hilt, and he collapsed. Siil could still feel the anger coursing through him as Master Skywalker took a step forward, knelt next to Taric, and placed a hand on his shoulder. "I'll bring him back. I swear it."

But Master Skywalker still hadn't returned from his foray on Nar Shaddaa and Taric was left on Yavin IV to try to cope with his loss. Siil sighed again. If only she could help.

She pressed the door pad and opened the doors to the spacious mess hall, sound emitting instantly from the dozens of tables around the hall. She didn't focus on the tables at first. Her stomach screamed for meat. She needed something fleshy and juicy to quench her ravenous appetite. She walked to the food bar in the center of the room and picked up a tray, scooping on helpings of Shaak from Naboo. It was no helping of Nerf, but it still had plenty of juicy meat. Most people shied away from Shaak because of a cook's tendency to cut out the muscle. The muscle actually formed a thin membrane that helped to hold in the Shaak's natural juices to help organically sauté it.

Her heel turned and she looked for a table. Problem with coming to the mess hall just after the peak time was dealing with the lower level Padawans who annoyed the ears off the first level Knights with incessant questions. Then she saw a viable table. There, just a few tables away sat Rubes, chin in hand and staring at Taric, who had his head on the table in his folded arms, as though asleep, but Siil knew better. After thinking about it for a few seconds, she walked towards Taric's table, fully prepared for backlash not only from the Rubes, whom Siil did not know well, but also from the distraught Taric, whom Siil also happened to not know well.

She set down her plate on the table with a slight clatter and in the seat across from Rubes, making sure she had one empty seat between her and Taric.

"Hello," she said casually as she picked up a spoon and started taking delicate, savory bites of her tasty Shaak. "How are you two?"

Taric didn't look up, but Rubes looked over to Siil with a completely befuddled look on her face. "Pardon me. I don't know you if know, but I'm rather new here, so I don't really know how to put this… But who are you?"

"My name's Siil," Siil said hesitantly. "I'm a Knight here, and I needed an open table away from the annoying little Padawans. Know what I mean?"

Rubes looked at her skeptically and Taric lifted his head to take a glance at Siil. "Fair enough. But even I've been here long enough to know that bothering Taric right now does not seem like the best of ideas."

Taric shot a deathly glare at Rubes. "Pardon her. She doesn't know when to quit." He sneered, almost loathing Rubes.

Siil felt a shot of darkness emote from Taric and set her spoon down. "Well, I'll be honest. Taric, I know we don't know each other very well, but I'm fairly certain that you do need a friend at a time like this."

Taric blew his lips together really fast, mocking Siil. "Oh please. Everyone knows you don't need friends. You only can handle yourself. If you set yourself up for friends, then you set yourself up to get hurt. I keep trying to tell her that."

"And I keep trying to tell him that death is a natural cycle and an excellent recycling process for the Force," Rubes sighed, swirling around her glass of ice.

Taric glared at her again, noticeably upset. "Why don't you just leave?"

"Because-" Rubes looked over almost sarcastically to Siil. "As much as I think our Togrutan friend over here is a bonehead," she paused for a second, reconsidering her words. "No pun intended, she is right. You do need someone to help pull you through a time of loss like this. I'm staying, Taric. You're in a potentially bad situation, right now. I'm here to see it though. It's what partners do. It's what Master Lectris would want."

"And who cares about that?" Taric yelled out, quieting the table behind him. "He's gone, Rubes. Nothing you say or do will change that. Nothing. It doesn't matter to me what he would or wouldn't want, because you'll never know. Maybe he changed at the last second and that would change what he would want from me. Trouble is, we'll never know. Why? Because he's dead. Those damn Sith cut off his head with a lightsaber. We saw it happen in front of our very eyes before we took off into space."

"Taric," Siil muttered quietly. "You're not the first person to lose a loved one."

"Yeah. Well, it's the last one I'll ever have to endure because as of this moment I don't know anybody."

"Taric," Siil's face dropped and she looked down, slightly embarrassed about what she was about to say. "Please. Just listen to me. You aren't the first. You won't be the last. And this cycle will continue whether you sit here or you practice and train and become a Jedi or you face that low excuse for a worm who killed Master Lectris. It'll still continue. You're talking to someone who has experienced enough death for one lifetime."

"Yeah, yeah," Taric leered at her. "What happened to you then? Did your parents die or something?"

Siil felt a tear well up slightly. "Yes, actually."

Taric looked up at her, his face devoid of expression. "What happened?"

"One large Hoth Ice, please," Siil smiled to the attendant, who nodded and turned around to fix her delicious midday snack.

"Honey, did you have to go for a large?" Her father winced at the sound of the word. "You couldn't have gone for a medium? It is a hot day, I know, but a large? Sweetie…"

"Dad," Siil looked up to her father. "Don't you know that Hoth Ices are rare treats that come around once a year. I'll let you have a bite if you want."

"That's not the point, dear," Her mother smiled. "The point is that the large is a really expensive treat. We want you to be happy but-"

"A bite?" Her father asked, completely ignoring her mother and intrigued by his daughter's bribe. "It'd have to be a good bite."

"Dad…"

Siil's father smiled as the man turned around and handed Siil a huge scoop of blue ice in a cup. "It's a large. I think you could spare a decent sized bite."

Siil frowned at her father but picked up her spoon and scooped off a full bite and held it up towards her father, keeping it level. He knelt down and with a huge gulp wiped the spoon clean, giving off a satisfied "Mmmm," and nodding, contented.

"So can we walk on?" Siil's mother asked, slightly annoyed at her husband's weak will. "We still have a long way before we get back home."

Siil's father nodded and held out his hand to his daughter, hoping she would hold it. Confused, Siil held up her quickly melting Hoth Ice in the summer heat on Shili. Her father laughed, surprised at his own small act of ignorance, put out his hand for his wife to take, and walked down the path with a "Come along, Siil."

Siil skipped behind them, savoring her tasty Ice. It wasn't every day her parents bought her an Ice. Only on their infrequent summer day walks through the park in Shili City. Normally people went out and hunted the wild game in the parks, but on planetary wide holidays like Akul Protection week the people laid down their weapons and stayed clear from the fierce animals.

Without warning, everything changed. Sounds of several discharged weapons echoed out of the grassy underbrush around them. Siil dropped her Ice in surprise, the blue dripping out of the cup and flowing outwards freely in the afternoon sun.

"Get down, Siil," her father called out, jumping into a preparatory predator stance next to Siil's mother, who did the same.

The shots rang out nearer this time, sending the few people picnicking in the tall grass to bound out and dive onto the path. Several sprinted away, fully unprepared as three four-legged orange Akul jumped out of the underbrush and onto the path, their teeth coated in the clear slime of their saliva. Slightly scared, but still prepared to play the hunter, those on the paths jumped up to ready position, joining Siil's parents. Siil scampered backwards. She had only ever hunted baby Akul in controlled situations with her school classes. The three Akul each chose a separate group and attacked, more out of fear than anything. As one, each of the Togruta picked a different Akul and began attacking fiercely, dodging the swipes the Akul tried to divide among the different Togruta and using a combination of their long nails and horns to attack the Akul.

They didn't stand a chance. Within a few minutes the Akul collapsed from exhaustion and loss of green blood. The Togruta stared at them, breathing in exhaustion from the absence of their usual pre-hunt warm up. No one spoke a word.

Another rustling in the brush forced them all to turn around quickly, fully prepared to kill more Akul. Siil's mother held out her hands, palms towards her potential prey and sharp nails pointed dangerously.

A few war cries resounded in the underbrush as five Togruta leapt out of the tall grass, discharging the huge hunting rifles in both hands at their prey.

Each of the Togruta who had just killed the Akul fell under the barrage of energy from the rifles, blue blood splattering the deep red of the path they stood on. Siil's parents, who were at the forefront of the groups collapsed first, their bodies growing more and more riddled with holes from the shots of the passionate Togrutan hunters.

Siil gasped as the last of the Togruta crumpled from the quickly dying shots.

No one spoke, and from the look of how the hunters were reacting to their new carnage, they had not realized that Siil had escaped from the massacre.

"Oh my God," the one in the front looked to the fallen Togruta and the Akul around the path. "What the hell just happened?"

"Nothing," the second said in shock so fast he must have said it in reflex. "We just say nothing. Someone will come along and think that the Akul murdered them because they were ill prepared."

"No, man," a third chimed in, looking like he was going to throw up. "We gotta 'fess up to this. No way is anyone going to let us off for this, but it's the honorable thing to do. I told you guys hunting on Akul Protection week was a bad idea!"

"I'm not going to jail for doing this," the one covered in Akul pelts said. "That's ridiculous. They should have gotten out of the way. Some Togrutan reflexes!"

"And you shouldn't have fired your god damn weapon!" The guilty one shouted. "They'll execute us for this. All of us. The murder of a Togrutan is punishable by death. If it happens on a hunt it's without a trial. In a situation like this, on Akul Protection week, they'll execute us on sight and on location."

Siil could barely hold back the tears. Five Togrutan hunters, and only one had the courage to stand up for the law. Her parents were dead. Why would anyone hunt during the Akul Protection week? They murdered her parents in cold blood.

She stood up slowly, drenched in hot blue blood and sticky Hoth Ice. The five held up their weapons reflexively.

"Oh my God," said the guilty Togruta. "This one's still alive."

"Who are you?" asked the one who didn't want to serve time in incarceration. "How'd you live through that?"

Siil still walked forwards, feeling the rage burn in her.

"What do you want?" one of the hunters held up his weapon in a firing position. "Not a step closer or I'll shoot."

"Shoot her anyway!" One urged, pulling up his own. "She's a witness. If she gets the word out about this we're dead."

"You're dead already," Siil whispered and with a swipe of her hand that made her feel incredibly foolish, she threw her hand across the air and flung all of the rogue hunter's weapons into the tall grass.

One of them pulled out a knife and charged her. Siil paid him no attention and dropped one of her hands, sending the Togrutan into a face plant as he slid across the ground, the momentum from his run carrying him several feet. Siil stepped on the back of his head as she walked past, giving a nice twist with her foot, making sure to grind his face even further into the packed dirt with all of her weight until she heard the click of the hunter's neck snapping under her twisting foot.

The remaining four tried to run, but Siil clasped her hands together and they all crashed into one another, breaking bones. Siil threw them into the air into a ball, crunching them even further together, and threw them into the air, dropping them into the ground again and again and again until she heard no more screams or grunts or any sounds at all except the rare sound of crunching bone as they hit the ground repeatedly. Siil released them from her bind and collapsed into tears.

"Here! Over here's where I heard it!" Someone called out from somewhere behind her.

Somewhere behind her something rustled in the tall grass until it stopped as people erupted onto the path, feet clattering over the mixing blue and green blood of dead Togruta and Akul. The man selling Hoth Ice stepped forward first and looked at the carnage around him. Togruta kept coming out of the tall grass, but that didn't matter. Her parents were dead.

Someone placed a hand on her shoulder and Siil looked up to Elder Mont's grim expression. He lifted her to her feet without saying a word. A Twi'lek walked over, still purveying the carnage, but somehow (Siil couldn't explain it) the Twi'lek seemed drawn to Siil.

"Siil?" The Elder asked as calmly as he could. "What happened?"

Siil told him. She told him about how her parents had wanted to go for a walk with her and how they had bought her a large even though her mother and father both thought she shouldn't have gotten a large and how they had heard the blaster fire and how the Akul had jumped out of the grass and how her parents and the other people enjoying the day had fought bravely and successfully killed the Akul and how the evil hunters had jumped out and shot down all of the people on the path and how they had thought of running away from their crime and how she had gotten mad and how she had faced them and killed them for their evil ways.

The Twi'lek placed an arm around Siil. "Elder, I appreciate your hospitality, but this does not seem like a good time for me to visit. You have much to do with this situation and I feel that this girl is incredibly adept at the Force, but there is anger in her. I ask that she be allowed to attend the newly formed Jedi Academy on Yavin IV."

"Master Essez brought me back here," Siil finished monotonously. "And I've been training to never let that dark back in."

"But it hurt?" Taric asked. "It hurt when they didn't do anything about those hunters?"

"What could they do?" Siil asked. "That's the point, Taric. I took my revenge and I had nothing. I gave into my anger and I let my parents death get to me to the point where I murdered people in cold blood."

"Are you telling me then that I should just pass over Master Lectris's death like it was nothing after I murder those responsible?"

"No, Taric," Siil said, annoyed. "That's what I'm telling you not to do. It won't do you any good and nothing will come of it."

"I'll feel better," Taric sneered.

"No you won't," Siil said remorsefully. She looked to Rubes for encouragement, but Rubes just shrugged, almost out of ideas. "Listen, have you visited Master Lectris's quarters since… well… He died?"

"No," Taric said in such a way that it was incredibly obvious that he wanted to end the discussion. "And quite frankly, I don't want to go in there. I'd just go ballistic again."

Rubes perked up at the idea. "That actually sounds like a good idea, Taric. Maybe you'll see something in there that might make you feel better."

"Which would be nothing, so we're not going because we're not going to find anything in Master Lectris's quarters," Taric sulked.

"Come on," Siil put her hand on Taric's affectionately. "I want closure too."

Reluctantly, Taric looked up at Siil, eyes full of a burning distraught. He stood up from the table so fast that his chair skidded back and fell back to the ground and walked out of the mess hall, not caring who stared or whispered behind his back.

Rubes looked to Rubes for support, but she just shot her a glance of thanks and sprinted out of the Mess Hall after him.

"Taric," she called out as she chased Taric down the hall with Siil. "Taric, you can't just make a scene like this. You need to seriously calm down."

"Calm down?" Taric turned around smiling in disbelief at her. "Calm down? What makes you think there's a reason for me to calm down? I'll tell you when I can calm down. I can calm down when we've brought Master Lectris to justice. So if you'll excuse me, I have a room to visit."

He continued his mad walk out of the mess hall temple and across the grounds, forcing padawans and knights out of his way, each one glaring at the hurrying by Rubes and Siil. He continued to walk and even bumped into Aradom Bastow and Zemdol Vonsteed down to the ground as he passed them.

Taric walked into the apartment complex and stepped into the elevator and took it up to the seventh floor, not waiting for Siil and Rubes, forcing them to half-dive into the elevator before its doors shut and it lifted into the upper levels.

"You shouldn't have come, you know," Taric said, still fuming. "This doesn't concern you."

"How many times do I have to tell you, Taric?" Rubes said, bite in her voice. "I was there on the ship and I watched them cut off his head too. He taught me for a week before they killed him. We trained together under his supervision and he was my friend and Master. Respect that and realize that just because he died the world doesn't stop."

"You back off, Rubes," Taric wheeled on her, pointing a finger right in her face. "Or so help me I'll kill you right here. I swear."

"Get your finger out of my face," Rubes said calmly.

Taric put his finger down, still clenching his jaw at Rubes. The elevator slid to a halt and jerked one last time as the door opened. Taric walked out the door, not looking back to even make sure that Rubes and Siil weren't following him and rounded several turns into various hallways before stopping at door number seven hundred and nineteen. He put his hand on the door pad and pressed in to open the door.

Nothing happened.

"Door's locked," Siil said, slightly upset, knowing this would not end well.

Taric pulled out his lightsaber and clicked it on, shoving his saber into the door pad so that it slid the door open immediately. He walked inside. Rubes and Siil glanced at each other nervously, both wondering how far Taric would go before he snapped in case he hadn't already.

Taric flipped on the lights as they entered the room. The air smelt of nells from the .forest moon of Endor and the entire room looked incredibly tidy and organized. Master Lectris had made his large bed immaculately before he left and a vase of nells sat on the table in front of the couch in the middle of the room.

Siil walked to the slick black bar in the corner of the room, on which stood pictures of Master Lectris with a female human Siil did not recognize. She looked at the other pictures around the room. Most of them had the human in them and in more than half Master Lectris was with her in some affectionate, loving pose.

"Who do you think this is?" Siil asked, noticing the matching rings on their fingers.

"It's hard to say," Rubes said, examining one of Master Lectris behind the woman, arms around her shoulders as he kissed her on a blushing red cheek.

"My goodness," Siil asked, picking up the picture and connecting the identical rings in her head. "Do you think that this woman and Master Lectris were married?"

Both Rubes and Taric looked at Siil.

"He never mentioned anyone," Taric said, confused.

"It looks like there was someone though," Siil picked up the picture and carried it over to Taric and Rubes. "Remember how they sent back Master Lectris's finger? There was a ring on it. He's wearing it in these pictures and this woman is wearing a ring identical to it. I recognize it as a Mon Calamari betrothal ring given only from the consent of the two prime ministers of Mon Calamari."

Rubes examined the picture, looking at the rings. "You know, you might be right."

"So what?" Taric asked rudely. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"It tells us something about him that we didn't already know," Rubes snapped back. "It shows that he did believe in the power of love, something the Academy doesn't preach any more."

"So what?" Taric asked again, even more aggravated.

"Forget it," Siil sighed. "All you care about now is revenge and sorrow. Let's keep looking for something."

She walked to the small table in front of the couch and picked up a small data pad. "Hey guys, look at this." She began scrolling down the screen, skimming past the words as they flickered by. "I think I just found his will."

Taric ran over to her, snatched it out of her hand, and began reading aloud. "To whom this concerns. My name is Nandon Lectris, and I'm a Jedi Master at the Jedi Academy on Yavin IV. If you're reading this then it means that I have fallen in the line of duty and the idea of putting my final wishes on my table before I embarked on each mission was a good idea. I don't know how I fell, but I pray that you honor my final wishes, which I update before every mission.

"First, I wish for my body to be laid to rest next to my beloved Rinda on the grounds of the Jedi Academy. I understand that this is against most Jedi teachings as they wish for me to be cremated, but I beg you lay me next to Rinda so that even in death we may be together.

"Second, I leave my ship, the _Zenst_ to the new Jedi Knight Rubeel Janston. As she is in need of a ship I think it best if she get mine. It's a reliable ship and it'll get her to where she needs to go. It even has a decent autopilot feature for her to use if she decides to never learn how to fly, although I do recommend, with her aptitude in the Force, that she learn at some point in time."

"Third, for my student Taric, I ask that you do not grieve over my death. It has been ten years since the death of my wife at the hands of Darth Stendalus, and I have been ready to accept death since then. I hope that you do not take it too hard and that you try to cope as best you can. Ask Rubes or Graden for help. I even had word from Master Essez that the young Togrutan Jedi Knight, Siil, would be more than happy to help in any way. I ask that you help to train Rubes and that she, in turn, trains you. You have so much more to learn and she will be your greatest asset.

"Finally, for Master Cade Skywalker. I'm sorry, my dear friend, that it had to happen to me, but you did know how much Rinda's death affected me. Please forgive me and keep an eye on my students. Keep them safe and remember all that we learned together.

"I will miss you all. Signed, Master Nandon Lectris."

Taric finished and put down the pad, holding back the tears. "I can't believe that. How could he have a death wish and never tell us?" He yelled, picked up a vase on the table, and threw it at the wall in frustration. "How could he just die and leave us alone like this? What made him think that we'd be able to handle this by ourselves?"

"Because we have each other, Taric," Rubes said softly. "Didn't you hear what he was saying? We have to look out for each other now, all of us. I need you, Siil needs you, Graden needs you, but most of all, you need us."

"I don't need you," Taric snarled. "Give me one good reason why I need you."

Siil stepped forward, grabbed Taric's face, and pulled him in towards her, kissing him hard. She didn't break the kiss until he softened and kissed her back. "That's why you need us. You need us, because death is one of the most difficult things to deal with. I love you and I'm willing to do whatever it takes to help you through this. Let me in and let me help. Please, Taric."

Taric and Rubes both stood completely speechless at Siil. Rubes stared in shock, but Taric's expression remained devoid of emotion for a minute. Siil felt her skin start to turn blue, the blood rushing to her face in her embarrassment.

Taric's face dropped into almost a look of disappointment. "Why couldn't you have come sooner?" He whispered and stalked out of the room at a brisk walk.

Rubes' eyes trailed after him and then turned to Siil. "What was that?"

"It was a kiss. Don't you know what a kiss is, or have you been too long removed from society to know?" Siil turned away to look at a picture of Master Lectris kissing the woman Siil assumed was Rinda on the cheek as she smiled away from him, perfectly content with her husband. How she longed for that feeling. To be kissed by someone like that. If only Taric could return her feelings.

"I know what a kiss is," Rubes rolled her eyes and turned back to the door. "But why did you do it?"

"Because I've wanted to do that for a long time," Siil confessed, turning back to Rubes and feeling her eyes water slightly. "I hoped that maybe the love of someone else could bring him out of this rut he's stuck in."

"I don't think you can do that through a kiss, Siil," Rubes smiled weakly.

"It was worth a try," Siil shrugged. "Why? What else do you think could bring him out of this? He needs to know that life will go on even though someone's died."

"And we can't do that through randomly timed kisses. We have to work slowly. If we move too fast he'll fall to the dark side and we might not ever get him back."

"We got you back."

"I pulled myself back," Rubes corrected her. "But you can only pull yourself back if you consciously make the decision to do it. People around you can help, but in the end it comes down to you wanting to change."

"So what happens now?" Siil stared at the door wistfully.

"We wait and try to comfort him so that he might take away this anger he has, but we can't do much more than that. I just hope he realizes how his path will leave him before it's too late."

Rubes turned away from Siil and walked out of the room, leaving Siil behind to stare around at the past of one of the greatest teachers of the Academy before turning towards the door to wonder about the future of the teacher's only student.


	15. Episode III Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own Star Wars, but I own the concepts in this story… Especially the Ulcitians… Heh… And Graden! Love her!

**Episode III  
Turning**

**Chapter 1  
Politics**

Graden stared out of the cockpit of the Mynock. What was taking them so long? They had been on Nar Shaddaa for over twenty-four standard hours and still they hadn't returned to the ship at all. She began to pace around the tiny cockpit, growing more and more seriously concerned, and not at all worried about what Master Skywalker would say when he, Master Essez, and her Master, Master Sangreldor learned that they had a stowaway on board. She chanced another glance out of the glass panels of the cockpit, half-hoping they would come back so that she would know their mission was a success.

She resumed pacing. Why hadn't she just stayed back on Yavin IV? Why did she have to go in and try to prove herself like this?

Because Taric needed her help. Rubes would probably say that he needed her help back on Yavin IV, but she needed to guarantee Master Lectris's return to Yavin IV. Taric needed that closure a whole lot more than Graden needed to complain to Taric about how much he should just get over Master Lectris's death. Nothing would help him get over that. Nothing had prepared Taric for it and so there was nothing she could do for him except help to ensure the safe return of his body, and, like it or not, Graden could happily play powerhouse from behind, firing blasts and powers of Force at any opponents.

She sat down in the seat before realizing that it would accomplish nothing and standing up, resuming her pacing again. Did something go wrong? Were they dead?

Sparks shot out of the door to the hangar and Graden ducked behind the ship's console, hand moving to her lightsaber. The sparks moved around the door in a circular motion as Graden trained in her ears, perfectly sculpted to hear the loud hustle and bustle of everyday court life of Ulcitian royalty, to hear the sounds of those beyond the door.

"Hurry up! They're coming! Get in there now! If we get in there fast enough we might get the drop on them!"

"Are you sure this'll work? The Jedi are supposed to be excellent at sensing other beings."

"That's only other Jedi, you moron! Would you hurry up?"

"You hurry up! This is your stupid idea!"

"It's not stupid! I told you: if we kill the Jedi before anyone else Kleega will reward us! Don't you get it! This is the break we've been waiting for."

"How much longer? I think I hear them coming!"

Graden forced her ears to listen past the thick seal on the door and down the hallway and towards the end of the hall. She felt some blood drip down her earlobe from the strain making her wince. It happened every so often, whenever she pushed her ears too hard. Ulcitian ears had an ability to hear through walls and across distances to better pick out gossip in the parties or marketplaces around Ulcitia, but if an Ulcitian extended an ear past a certain safe point the ear would bleed and make the ear hyper-sensitive to other sounds. Hopefully this latest extension would be worth it in the end.

"Oh my God! They're coming! Quick! Get in! Quick! Quick!"

"I need another minute!"

Blaster fire echoed around the hall as staggered footsteps and the sound of a twirling lightsaber rounded the corner. One set of the footsteps quickened as the Stormtroopers nearest the door opened fire loudly, shouting as the Jedi deftly deflected the multitude of shots and the men who were cutting down the door crumpled to the ground, their blasters discharging a few more times.

The voice of Master Essez echoed in Graden's ear. "Get the door! Get the door!"

"Who has the key?" Came the labored voice of Master Sangreldor.

"No time!" Shouted Master Skywalker as she heard the door creak for a second before the sound of ripping metal resounded around the hangar forcing Graden to scream from the pain, putting her hands up to her bloody ears and wiping away the red, preparing to help out her masters however they needed help.

The door crashed open and Graden's father walked out of his office, filing through papers importantly, Graden's mother in tow.

"We can't do it!" Denét shouted at her husband. "You would associate with Neimoidians in order to stay out of the Confederacy? Gradik? What are you doing?"

"Better to be with a bunch of merchants than with a bunch of Hutts," Graden's father grumbled as he began opening the drawers of one of his desks in his bedroom.

Graden paid no attention to her parents and resumed playing with a small, stuffed Varactyl her Aunt Denon had given her for her last birthday. They often quarreled like this, and she knew better than to get involved in these disputes of words. She made the croaking sound of the Varactyl as she chased an imaginary Wampa across the wintry white of her parent's bedspread, following it over the mountains and the hills and down into the valleys and the sinkholes formed from her parent's huge, lumpy bed.

"What part of I don't agree with this don't you understand?" Graden's mother shouted. "You can't go to bed with the Neimoidians either because the Neimoidians are sick, twisted traders! They won't help keep Ulcitia out of the presidency any more than you can say no to anything Graden asks of you!"

Graden's father laughed silently, throwing his head back before turning to face his wife. "Don't you get it? I don't care about how much the Neimoidians are going to rip us off because that's not my concern. You know darn well that we don't depend on anyone to get trade into us and we are above the influence of the Neimoidians! We're the rulers of this planet! We won't have to worry about the Neimoidians because we can keep them out of the loop of our lives! If we give into the Hutts, they'll turn this place into another dumping ground for their huge criminal empire! The Confederacy will never let us have the autonomy that we want and we can't trust the people around the galaxy to do what's in our best interest. The Neimoidians are the best choice, dear. Don't you see that?"

"The Neimoidians have been running around the empire for the past thousand years trying to get all of us to obey stupid laws about trading that gives them huge profits in tariffs not only on our imports, but also our exports! Everytime we short them, they won't tell us until it's amounted to so much that we can't pay it back. They'll extort our people and natural resources until we've come close to paying it off, and then they'll tell us that we'll have a huge interest due on top of that that we'll never be able to pay off and then they'll blockade and quarantine our planet like they did to Naboo just before the fall of the Old Republic!" Graden's father began to speak up in protest. "And if you even recommend we smuggle things in they'll stop us and kill the leaders of the planet until the remaining citizens agree to work as slaves!"

Graden's father turned around and glared at his wife, a vein in his forehead twitching uncontrollably. "We have no other options, my love."

"We join the Confederacy," Graden's mother suggesting, making her husband groan and turn around and pound his fists on his desk in anger and protest. "No, no. Listen to me!" She said calmly, grabbing her husband's chin and coaxing it to face her. "We can do this. Together we can beat the Confederacy at their own game. If we form a coalition within the council by using a trusted advisor as our representative we can successfully shift galaxial politics in our favor. Why don't you trust the Confederacy?"

Graden's father turned around and looked down at the mess of papers on his desk. "I don't think it's a good idea. Look at how well the galaxial government took care of the Stendalus situation. It crippled the government and the government's collapse threw the galaxy into complete and total disarray."

"So help stop something like that from happening again," Graden's mother pleaded with him, wrapping her arms around his waist. "Ulcitia has long stayed removed from galaxial politics. Don't you think it's time we gave it a shot? Let's let people know about us. What's so scary about Darth Stendalus trying to take over the galaxy? Things like this happen all the time. It's not like you had anything to do with his rise to power."

Graden's father looked at her, eyes full of remorse.

"Gradik," She whispered. "What aren't you telling me?"

"Nothing," He said, hesitantly.

"Don't tell me nothing's wrong. What is it? What's bothering you?"

"I bought a few senators to keep the people in the Republic interested in galaxial needs. They were the ones who recommended the Battle of Dantooine to the Chancellor before Darth Stendalus executed him. I told them to have a grand strike against the Sith at a fortified base. I thought it was for the best."

"You didn't," Graden's mother stepped back in shock. "How could you do that? You bought Republican senators and told them how to act? Without consulting me first?"

"I'm sorry," Graden's father said, a single, solitary tear dripping from one of his eyes. "It sounded like a good idea and I thought I'd get a feel for the political system through a few well placed senators."

"Is that why you don't want to get involved? Because you think you're responsible for all those deaths? That's not your fault."

Graden set down her Varactyl to watch her parents. Why was her dad crying?

"I know that, but I don't think that Ulcitia will function in the Confederacy. Why don't you believe me?"

"Because you haven't yet given me a good reason to believe you. You bought off some senators. Once they're bought and paid for they won't listen to themselves. They want the money to roll in so they'll act the way you tell them to act. If we choose one of our own personal advisors they'll contest your decisions and still listen to you." She stepped in front of her husband and smiled, wiping away the tear off his cheek with a long clawed thumb. "It'll be okay. Let's go into the Confederacy, and this time you won't be alone. You'll have me and a personal advisor who is exceptional at politics."

Graden hopped off her parent's bed, holding her Varactyl by an arm. "Mommy, daddy, what are you talking about?"

"Nothing sweetie," Graden's mother smiled. "We're just talking about the family business and how we can use it to better help our fellow Ulcitians." She picked up her daughter's free hand and walked her over to the bed and sat her down on the white comforter. Graden's parents sat between her. "We were talking about becoming more active in the galaxy."

"But didn't you two say that was a bad idea?" Graden said, looking to her parents in turn. "I thought you said that only Ulcitians understood how to deal with Ulcitian problems."

"The times are changing, sweetheart," Graden's father smiled. "Sometimes you need to help other people understand how you solve your own problems so that they might better understand how to solve theirs."

"Oh," Graden said, slightly confused. "Does this mean that things will change?"

Graden's parents exchanged glances before looking back down to their daughter. "No, sweetie," Graden's mother smiled at her. "It just means that mommy and daddy are going to have some new friends to entertain."

"Does that mean more parties?" Graden asked excitedly.

"Yes, Graden," Graden's mother kissed her daughter on the forehead. "It means more parties. Doesn't that sound fun?"

"Why can't you make more of these decisions, daddy?" Graden grabbed her father as best she could around his shoulders.

"Because, kiddo," Graden's father smiled at her. "We only make friends when we think it will help us."

"So will this help us?" Graden asked.

"Yes Graden," Graden's father picked her up and carried her back to her room. "They will help us very much."

Graden flipped out of the _Mynock_, pulling out her lightsaber and willing the Force to make her move faster; she began blocking the onslaught of blaster fire from the Stormtroopers as Master Skywalker walked backwards, blocking the tirade of energy shooting towards them. Masters Sangreldor and Essez carried the huge crate as fast as they could towards the _Mynock_, hampered by the awkward handles.

"Graden!" Master Sangreldor barked as he limped forward and past Graden, who kept blocking the shots and only barely paid attention to her master, her incredibly sleek clothes flapping after her saber to protect her master. "How'd you get on the ship?"

"I snuck on! I thought you might need some back up!" Graden shouted back.

A huge reptilian Falleen walked into the hangar bay between the lines of Stormtroopers and dropped off his black robes, making the Stormtroopers cease firing and hold their weapons at the ready. He flipped up and over Master Skywalker, pushing him down as he flipped over and past Graden. Shocked, Graden tried to attack him as he landed, but he blocked her attacks from over his shoulder. He smirked at her and pushed her backwards with such force that she collapsed into the barely rising Master Skywalker. The Falleen sprinted forward towards Master Sangreldor and Master Essez.

"Look out!" Graden shouted at the masters, clutching her what-felt-like-broken rib.

Master Sangreldor dropped the crate and unhooked his lightsaber just in time to begin dueling with the Falleen Sith. Master Essez dropped the crate too, expecting to sneak up from behind and take the Falleen by surprise.

Barely flinching, the Falleen kicked off Master Sangreldor and twirled his saber into the air, catching it and thrusting it behind him and into Master Essez. Graden screamed as Master Essez stared downwards in shock.

"Oh," he said in surprise as he fell to the ground, clutching his stomach.

The Falleen turned back to Master Sangreldor, smirking. Graden jumped up to attack him, but he pushed her past him, cutting her side as she flew past; she yelped and winced as she landed in the fetal position, clutching her gashed wound.

Master Sangreldor began to duel the Falleen, matching him strike for strike. "Get Nandon and Essez on the ship!" He shouted to Master Skywalker.

"Graden! Shove the crate onto the ship!" Master Skywalker shouted at her.

Graden willed the crate into the air and carried it by invisible handles and slid it up the gangplank and up into the ship. She looked back as Master Skywalker sprinted up the gangplank with his arm around Essez.

"Master Sangreldor!" She shouted. "Let's go!"

Master Sangreldor brought his saber down onto the Falleen's saber and clashed, growling from the force he exerted on the strike. Master Sangreldor pulled off the hit and pounded the Falleen in the jaw with his elbow, knocking the Falleen to the ground before he ran to Graden.

"Go Graden!" He shouted. Graden turned and sprinted up the gangplank, raising it slowly as Master Sangreldor hit the end to turn to the Falleen.

But the Falleen kept smiling his demonic smirk and he lifted his hand and pointed it at Graden, pulling it into an open hand, prepared to choke someone.

Master Sangreldor looked back to Graden. "No!" He shouted and dove in front of her just as the Falleen gave a flick of the wrist, making Master Sangreldor's neck twist quickly to one side. The neck elicited a snap as Master Sangreldor's body clipped Graden's as it flew past.

Graden looked to Master Sangreldor as he skidded across the Mynock's floor and then to the Falleen as the gangplank hissed shut, the Falleen laughing mercilessly.


	16. Episode III Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Cade, but the rest of the elements in this story are mine... MINE...

* * *

**Chapter 2****  
****Business**

The ship lurched to one side as it took off, sending Master Sangreldor's body sliding towards Graden. She shrieked slightly, pushing the furry corpse of Master Sangreldor away from her, but making sure to try to flip him over. Maybe they could fix his neck. If they reached it fast enough maybe they could heal him.

His eyes had stayed frozen and his face had a look of almost satisfaction of his victory over task of saving Graden, she pulled his head in close and screamed as Master Essez rounded the corner and entered the _Mynock's _sitting room, clutching his side and leaning heavily on the wall.

"I felt a disturbance in the Force," he said weakly. "What's going… good Lord." His eyes drifted to Master Sangreldor's body and his jaw fell slack. "What happened? I thought I felt a huge surge of dark Force and then a cry from Master Sangreldor, but… I…" He limped as fast as he could towards Graden and Master Sangreldor's body, clutching his side as he collapsed on the floor next to them, landing in a sitting position and looking into his friend's head, which laid in his student's lap. "How did this happen?"

"The Falleen Sith-" Graden said, choking up. "He… He…"

The tears broke through and dripped onto Master Sangreldor's thick, brown fur, sticking where they landed. Graden didn't care. He died. How could one person be so ic? What did he do? Something lurched forward and Graden recognized the sound of them entering hyperspace. Something clattered in the pit and Graden looked up to see Master Skywalker, framed just like Master Essez had been in the doorway.

"I was hoping I just felt something twinge," Master Skywalker confessed as he walked slowly to Master Sangreldor's body, Graden, and Master Essez. "First Nandon, and now you," he whispered to Master Sangreldor's body and sat down on the other side of Graden, petting Master Sangreldor's head gently. "He always liked it when I did this, but he would never let me do it in public. You could say it was a guilty pleasure of both of ours."

They all three sat in silence, next to Master Sangreldor's body for several minutes until Master Skywalker stood up slowly and placed a hand on the crate they had carried onto the ship. "Was it worth it?" He asked to no one. "Was the life of another worth returning the body of a friend?" Master Skywalker leaned on the crate and ran his hand across his forehead, pushing back his shoulder length hair. "Why, Nandon? I knew you missed Rinda, but why did you have to get careless?"

"Rinda?" Master Essez asked looking up to Master Skywalker.

"His wife," Master Skywalker waved him off carelessly. "It's not a topic for discussion right now. Let's just get back to the Academy and take care of this. Then we can rethink all of the information we have and just try to come up with something to do."

He turned around and his eyes fell on Graden. "Disregarding the fact that you stowed away on my ship, I think that in the light of recent events and because of how well you handled yourself back there and because of how much people need you right now, I'm using my powers as High Jedi Master to promote you to the rank of Jedi Knight."

Suddenly the thought of becoming a Jedi Knight, a goal Graden had always poured her heart and soul into, seemed completely fleeting and pointless after Master Sangreldor's death. She wanted to make him proud that he had taught her so well, that it was the least she could do after his companionship and friendship. She had always wanted to make it her thank you gift for all of his hard work in helping her achieve so much by dedicating her graduation and all that it signified to Master Sangreldor.

"Graden?" Master Skywalker asked. "Graden!" He raised his voice to a bark, shaking her from her grief. "Stay with me, please, because I don't know how long I'm going to have before you break down completely. Listen. I'm making you partners with Taric and Rubes. You work well with Taric, and I could use a good tag team on Rubes if you're up to it."

Graden didn't move, letting her silent tears still drop with a _pit pat, pit pat_ onto Master Sangreldor's thick fur.

"Graden!" Master Skywalker shouted at her. "Nod if you understood what I just said."

Graden still stared at Master Sangreldor, numb from sound and feeling.

"Graden!" Master Skywalker shouted so loudly it sent a slight ripple in the Force around him, shocking Graden back to reality. "What did I just talk about?"

"Something about making me a Jedi Knight and now I'm partners with Taric and Rubes," Graden felt the tears comes harder this time, and she whimpered letting them flow freely and bawling, choking back as many tears as she could, making herself shudder. She turned right into Master Skywalker, who had dropped to a knee and wrapped his arms around her should, and cried as hard as she could into his shoulder, making her face cold from the outburst of wet from her nose and eyes. Why did he have to die? Why? Why?

Master Skywalker shushed her softly, rubbing her back consolingly. "Shhhh, Shhhh, Graden. It's okay. It'll be okay. Why don't you come over here?" He stood up and brought her over to a wall and pressed a button, revealing a small, one-person pull out bed. "Why don't you rest here a while? Take your mind off of things. I promise that once you wake up, things will be better."

And as Graden lay down, she found his advice quite true as she drifted into the blissful unconsciousness of sleep.

Graden's ears pricked her awake and she listened into the pit to the conversation of Master Essez and Master Skywalker as they lurched out of hyperspace.

"We still need to decide what to tell the others," Master Essez said.

"I know," Master Skywalker said back. "It was hard enough to tell the Order that a Falleen Sith murdered Nandon, but to say that now, the same Falleen has killed Master Sangreldor? That'll cause panic and riots. It makes it sound like we're vulnerable to the Sith, and to make things worse, a Sith who's unified under a Hutt. That's dangerous."

"And did you see that look on his face?" Master Essez asked him. "It wasn't human."

Awkward silence, in which Graden could have sworn she heard Master Skywalker's robes shuffle significantly.

"Okay, so maybe he wasn't human. The point is, it wasn't natural. Tell me you saw that. It was so demonic and callous. He didn't seem to feel anything. It was almost as if someone was shutting off all non-hateful feelings to his brain."

"I did notice that. What do you think that was? It was, familiar somehow."

"You thought that too?" Master Essez affirmed. "Yeah, I remember it now that I'm thinking about it, but it didn't click at the time."

"Where'd you see it?" Master Skywalker asked, curious.

"Think back to the attacks on the Academy a week and a half ago. Think of the looks on the Sith's faces. Notice anything?"

Silence. "It's the same type of expression, devoid of anything but base emotion. What could have caused that, though?"

"That's a good question," Master Essez made a sound with his robes. "I have no idea what could have caused such a strange thing to happen. It must be new, because it causes Sith to act almost irrationally. Did you notice how those Sith bombers were reckless."

"Haven't we talked about this?"

"But why would four Sith give up their lives? It's completely unlike the Sith. The Sith are crafty, but they do have a streak of pride about them that would keep them alive at all costs, and make them almost afraid of death. So why would they commit bombings and sacrifice themselves?"

"Brainwashing?"

"No. That's too easy. Any Sith can withstand a brainwashing. Hell, even most civilian soldiers can get around it. It's gotta be more complex than that. There has to be something here that we're missing." They stayed silent for another few seconds. "Look, we're almost here, you better wake up Graden."

Graden stayed silent and kept her eyes closed as he father carried her into the room, letting the sounds of chatter and laughter echo around their massive ballroom. She often played this game with her father. Her father would cover her eyes and then Graden would try to guess how many people were at their party.

"So how many?" her father asked.

"Seven hundred and ninety two," Graden guessed with a smile.

"Eight hundred and thirty four," Graden's father chuckled as Graden opened her eyes; he set Graden down onto the ground, Graden's feet landing on her long, emerald green dress.

"How do you know that?" Graden asked, doubtful of her father's counting ability.

"He just knows, dear," Graden's mother smiled. "You could say that it's his business." She wrapped her arm around her husband's elbow. "Shall we dear?"

"Of course, my love," he smiled at her and they walked in to the massive crowd in their huge ballroom with seven chandeliers. "Behave yourself, Graden," he shouted over his shoulder, as people began to bow and avert their eyes around him.

For as long as she could remember, her parents always left her alone at their parties. Sometimes she would stay around and talk with them, but instead she usually walked around to look at all the latest fashions from around Ulcitia. True, these sorts of parties came once a week at the very least, but that still did not mean that the fashions didn't turn over almost daily. She walked up to the Duke and Duchess of Enstil province.

"Good evening Mr. and Mrs. Thrend," Graden said, her voice saturated with as much cute as she could give off. "And how are you this lovely evening?"

"Graden!" Mrs. Thrend said brightly and slightly too loud, drawing the other ladies at the party towards her loud voice and flaunting of the King and Queen's princess. "And don't you look absolutely ravishing in your dark green? Is that new?"

"Yes ma'am," Graden grinned up at her. "It is. Do you like it? I saw the thread for it and I knew that it would look fantastic as an evening gown."

"Well, as we all know, our royal highnesses must put their best towards their little princess," Mrs. Thrend rubbed her lips with her fingertips, only the slightest twinge of bite in her voice. "Come here and let's show your new dress around to all your adoring fans." Graden held her hands up as Mrs. Thrend bent over and scooped Graden off the ground and sat her on her left forearm, supporting Graden's back with her right. "You're getting too big for this. You know, pretty soon we won't be able to do this."

The different groups of people around the room shifted their attention to Graden as Mrs. Thrend gallivanted around the room and sporting Graden like a prize. Graden looked around the room to the people. This didn't seem like the normal crowd. All the usuals were present, but other species were there too. She saw several humans, two Hutts (surrounded by scroungy looking bodyguards of course, just like all the pictures in her tutor's screens), and three Neimoidians. What would all these people want with Ulcitia? She watched as her father shook the hands of each of the humans in turn and then led them to the front of the room, where the Bith band had just finished their last song.

"Ladies and Gentlemen," Graden's' father said into the microphone used by the rare Bith singer. Her father owned this band purely because of the talent in the Bith singer. "I have an incredibly important announcement for you all." The chatter in the room quickly died down. "As you all know, after the death of Darth Stendalus and the High Chancellor of the Republic, the Republic has shattered. From its ashes has risen a new political entity called The Confederacy."

People around the room began to chatter anxiously, as though nervous. Mrs. Thrend set down Graden, enraptured in Graden's father's words.

"I just finished speaking to the delegates from Coruscant, Mon Calamari, Corellia, and Kashyyyk. They have offered Ulcitia a position on the Confederacy's council, to which, in the interests of protecting Ulcitia, I have just agreed. Ulcitia is now a full fledged member of the Confederacy."

The room burst into a mix of emotions. People began shouting and cheering, while others yelled and cried out. Graden's father stepped away from the stage, shaking hands with the delegates as they left through the glass doors and into the garden. When they had all left, Graden's father wormed his way through the crowd until he reached the double doors that led to the rest of the house, making sure to step aside as he let the Neimoidians and the Hutts with their bodyguards as they entered the hallway that led to the rest of the house.

"Graden?" Master Skywalker prodded her on the shoulder once gently. "Graden. You need to get up. We're almost to the Academy."

Graden sat up and looked up into Master Skywalker's tearless eyes. How had he gone this entire time without crying? What kept that emotion absent from his thoughts?

"And what are we going to do at the Academy?"

"We need to bury Master Lectris while having a memorial service for both him and Master Sangreldor. After that, we just continue."

"Right," Graden said softly. How could she go on? Did Master Skywalker really just expect her to move on with life as she lost the most important person in her life?

They set down on Yavin IV a few minutes later, Jedi flocking from their rooms, classes, and training sessions to greet their return. Master Skywalker set _The Mynock _down and pulled out a collapsible stretcher from the wall, levitating Master Sangreldor onto it. He crossed Master Sangreldor's arms over his chest neatly and wiped a rogue hair out from across his eyes, smiling weakly. He pushed the button for the gangplank, making sure that Graden and Master Essez carried Master Lectris in front of him, pushing the hovering stretcher in front of him. People around them gasped and Master Telsels ran forward to try to help Master Sangreldor.

"Cade! Cade! Is he hurt? Can you do anything?"

Master Skywalker grabbed his arm and held it there, not speaking any words for a minute, staring him down. "There's nothing anybody can do for him now. Let him be."

"Graden!" Rubes sprinted forward, Taric behind her, brooding as he watched them set down Master Lectris's makeshift coffin reverently. "We were worried You should have told us you were going!" She pulled Graden into a tight embrace.

But Graden didn't embrace back and just held the position there until Rubes had eased her own guilt about what had happened to Master Sangreldor. "It happened on a whim."

Taric stared at Master Lectris's coffin and then turned to Master Sangreldor. "Him too, huh? What is happening to this world?" His fist clenched. "What happened?"

"A Sith ambushed us," Graden said.

"How many?" Rubes asked.

"Just one," Graden sighed, depressively. "A singular Falleen, if you can believe it. I've never seen any Jedi or Sith move so succinctly. He didn't waste a move and his technique was rather flawless."

"Did you say Falleen?" Taric looked up from Master Lectris's coffin again.

"Yeah, why?" Graden growled, increasingly more and more upset at bringing up the subject of Master Sangreldor's executioner.

Taric clenched his teeth together and blood dripped down his knuckles as he clenched his fingers into his palms. "That's the same one who killed Master Lectris."

"You're kidding," Graden said, angrier than ever.

"He's going to pay for that," Taric whispered menacingly, deathly serious as Rubes looked quickly between the both of them.

But Graden didn't care. She couldn't have agreed with Taric more.


End file.
